


When Among Dwarves

by sexraptor (thebelovedpariah)



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canon Rewrite, Fix-It, Incest, M/M, Uncle/Nephew Incest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2020-03-09 13:10:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 30,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18917689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebelovedpariah/pseuds/sexraptor
Summary: Bilbo has learned of a dwarven tradition that he can’t quite wrap his brain around. Meanwhile, the party is conspiring against Thorin to get him to relax. Things quickly get more complicated than anyone was planning for.





	1. Chapter 1

The first time it happened, Bilbo was sure he’d just misheard him.

“I’m sorry?”

“Aye lad, it’s just the way of our people.”

“You just… _kiss_ each other? Whenever you like?” His voice was hushed, as if it were some forbidden knowledge never meant for the world to hear.

Balin smiled calmly as he watched the blush creep over Bilbo’s features, obvious even in the light of the fire that crackled between them. Not far, just at the tree line, Fili and Kili were draped in shadow yet still quite openly sharing what Bilbo thought was an overly intimate kiss.

“But, they’re brothers!” Bilbo gawked, trying not to stare and failing miserably.

“True, and they’re typically the worst of the lot. Always been thick as thieves. If they’ve closed a door behind them, best not to barge in if you’re not prepared to join them,” the white-haired dwarf explained easily. “Look at it like this, lad. We’re surviving out here. Have been for years. If one of us is broken, we’re weaker for it, so we mend him. It may be a wound of the flesh or of the heart, but we don’t leave him to suffer alone. Could be we’ve been on the road many days, exhausted and near frozen to the bone. A warm bed shared with my brothers is better than none.”

Letting his gaze drop as he considered the words of the wise dwarf, Bilbo couldn’t deny that it was true. He valued his warm comfortable bed with its layers of blankets and pillows. He would give anything to have that again, not the hard ground barely softened by the furs and scarce blankets they’d packed. True, he’d never shared his bed with anyone, but the idea of having some inkling of that comfort was appealing. This tradition among the dwarves was startling and different… but it certainly came with its pros.

Looking up again, Bilbo was surprised to find that Fili and Kili were nowhere to be seen. “Have they gone?”

“Aye, while we’re not shy about being intimate, most of us prefer to share such time in privacy.” Balin sighed, looking up to the sky. It was late, and most of their company was asleep. They had been traversing a particularly difficult span of terrain in the past few days and each subsequent night it was obvious that it had been taking its toll. They were worn, low on food and water. They would have to take a day to gather supplies soon, which Thorin despised but was not so hardheaded that he would risk their lives over their sustenance running out.

“I’m retiring too, lad. Best you do the same. We’ve got more road ahead tomorrow,” the dwarf said with a nod, standing and heading to his own bedroll a short distance away.

Bilbo nodded as he left before staring off in the direction Fili and Kili had headed, his mind a mess of questions. Morally, he felt somewhat shaken. Culturally, hobbits certainly didn’t go about kissing each other as they saw fit and they certainly didn’t sleep together without quite a lot of courtship in between. That wasn’t to say that it didn’t happen, but proper hobbits also did not stick their noses into other peoples’ intimate business. As he allowed himself to ponder these notions, Bilbo was shocked to discover that he didn’t completely disapprove of it all. In fact, it was rather alluring in a manner that he wouldn’t dream of admitting to anyone. Standing, he paced about the fire for a moment longer before nodding sharply. Nothing to do but sleep on it for now. He’d have time to learn more from the others in the coming days, after all. Glancing around at the sleeping bodies around him, he made his way to his own bedroll with the hopes of finding some rest before the sun rose again.

-~-

The following morning, there was no indication that anything had ever occurred between the brothers. No one behaved oddly or uncomfortably as they sat about the dying fire eating their breakfast rations, and Bilbo was quite sure he and Balin were not the only ones to have seen Fili and Kili sneaking off together. Lost in his speculations, the burglar jerked to attention as Bofur spoke up nearby.

“Back to feeling yourselves, boys?” The older male addressed Fili and Kili who grinned in return.

“Much, thanks. We should have listened to you sooner, Bofur,” Fili answered first with Kili nodding his agreement.

“Always good to take a night for yourselves. It’s been hard going for a while,” Bofur said before going back to his breakfast.

Bilbo looked to Balin with a sort of helpless look on his face which the old dwarf must have read clearly as he simply smiled and winked at him. How in the world had a respectable hobbit such as himself become so caught up in such things?

Approaching the company from the trees, Thorin caught just the tail end of their words but enough to understand what they’d been discussing. Having risen early to scout the area, he’d also seen his nephews sneaking back to the camp in the early morning light. Seeing them so carefree and relaxed was a welcome sight, but also caused his own heart to ache for such time of his own. It just wasn’t in the stars for their leader. He had to remain constantly vigilant for danger that could come at any moment, not satisfying his baser needs.

“You should all take the time while we can spare it. We’ll camp here for a few days’ time and gather our strength and replenish supplies. Dwalin and Balin, with me,” Thorin commanded, walking past the gathered group with both dwarves standing to follow him. They moved away enough to be out of earshot, leaving the others to go back to their discussion.

“I wish he’d take some time for himself,” Kili huffed with murmured agreeing words coming from those around him. “He’s been a mess for days.”

“Aye, but not for lack of trying. Oin and I have both given it our best go, but he won’t allow himself to. Says he’s got too much responsibility,” Dori piped up.

“That’s ridiculous. He probably needs the release more than any of us!” Bofur chimed in with several others nodding.

As the various opinions came from here and there, Bilbo was working quite hard on focusing himself on his breakfast. It was no hobbit breakfast, but he’d grown accustomed to it and it was more than enough distraction to hopefully not make the bright blush adorning his cheeks more obvious to his companions.

“So it’s settled then. We’ll take turns until one of us makes him crack. We’ve got three days boys. Maybe Master Baggins will even want a turn?” Bofur gestured to the burglar in question who was still rather unaware that he’d been volunteered.

“What say you, Bilbo? For the good of the company?” Nori asked directly causing Bilbo’s head to snap up.

“You want me to do what exactly?”

“Well, really that’s up to you. We’re going to give our best shots at making sure Thorin gets a well deserved rest. We’ve all got our way of going about things. Are you interested in a turn?”

“Well, that is, I don’t think I’ve ever-“ Bilbo spluttered before finding his words. “Hobbits don’t exactly do this sort of thing, really. We usually take our time getting to know someone a bit better before, erm, helping them get a well deserved rest.”

“Relax, Master Baggins! You’re under no obligation to this sort of thing if you don’t wish to,” Fili smiled warmly at him. “Unless you’re curious.”

The raised eyebrow and smirk that crossed the young dwarven face was enough to bring renewed embarrassment onto Bilbo’s own features, and a good many indecent thoughts into his head in spite of himself.

“I think I would rather not include myself in such things,” He declared finally. “If that’s okay with the rest of you,” he added with more reservation.

“Aye, suit yourself. We’ll get old Thorin to relax one way or another,” Bofur grinned and several dwarves chuckled somewhat mischievously.

Not much later, Thorin, Dwalin, and Balin rejoined the group to discuss the surrounding area as Thorin had seen it. There was a good water source not far which fed into the small streams they had passed on their way and he’d seen plenty of wildlife which would feed them well and stock their bags. Halfway through his explanation, a powerful yawn took hold of him and he was forced to pause and let it pass. It seemed this was Kili’s cue to persuade the mighty dwarf.

“Uncle, you’ve lead us a good distance. Allow yourself to rest for a time. We can begin gathering and hunting as we’ve done hundreds of time before.”

“I have much to do before I rest, Kili. Another day perhaps.” Thorin brushed his suggestion aside without a passing glance, much to his nephew’s dismay.

“It’s gonna be harder than that, but a good try,” Fili whispered with a grin as he patted his brother on the back. He was rewarded with a glare, but they both suspected that this would be no easily won war.

-~-

The day passed with regular attempts by Fili and Kili to simply get their uncle to take a nap, but the closest anyone managed to get was when Fili happened to get Thorin to sit down for lunch. When the time came to set about gathering supplies, a unanimous truce was called which relieved Bilbo immensely. He felt on edge, constantly worried he might stumble upon two dwarves in any manner of undress or locked in an intimate embrace. Logically, he knew this was highly unlikely, but he had only just learned of this tradition. He didn’t thoroughly understand it and that only made the whole situation worse.

The afternoon brought the revelation that Bilbo was certainly no hunter, but surprisingly an excellent gatherer. Surprising to the band of dwarves, anyhow.

“Did none of you even look at Bag End? The gardens don’t tend themselves!” Bilbo huffed in frustration, arms full of wild berries and edible flowers.

Thorin wiped his brow, barely holding a handful of berries compared to their burglar’s haul. “Are you certain those won’t kill us?”

“Quite. Here, try this,” Bilbo offered him a white flower with long petals and a soft pink center.

Pausing to look at the proffered plant, he hesitantly retrieved it from Bilbo’s grasp and brought it to his nose. It smelled unremarkable, and there were no hints of anything poisonous about it. Giving the hobbit one more cautious look, he brought it to his lips and took the flower in one bite, leaving the stem. After a couple of seconds, a sweet nectar flowed over his tongue and he made a low moan of appreciation.

“I’ve never tasted anything like it. It’s wonderful,” he looked at the pile of them Bilbo carried with a hungry gaze.

“They’re very sweet, but delicate. You can’t pick them too quickly or they will rip apart. The stem is tougher and you can chew on them over time to release a heartier flavor,” Bilbo explained eagerly, glad to see Thorin pleased with something he’d done.

“Show me.”

Bilbo’s eyes widened and he considered the dwarf for a moment before nodding. He laid his armful nearby with the rest of the group’s and led Thorin a short distance from the others to some trees overgrown by large bushes. Kneeling, he lifted the foliage of one bush to reveal a full patch of the white flora blooming beneath. With a practiced hand, Bilbo reached in and grasped one delicate bloom just below it’s leaves and twisted slightly. The stem broke away in his hand and he smiled, bringing it up to show Thorin.

“They’re easy to find if you know where to look. These bushes will only grow around these trees and the flowers will only grow beneath the bushes. Rodents love them so you have a good chance of catching mice beneath the bushes as well.”

Thorin was pleasantly surprised by the knowledge and expertise the hobbit was showing. It was something he would never have attributed to him, but then again, when had he given him the chance to showcase it? They had previously done all the hunting themselves and told him to stay put, not wanting to risk a runaway burglar, but now Thorin could see the opportunity they had been missing out on.

Bilbo suddenly motioned for him to kneel as well, and he found himself on the forest floor next to him. As he held the bushes out of the way, Thorin reached forward and grabbed at one of the flowers himself but as he pulled it from the bunch, the petals seemed to fall away nearly instantly and he was left with a stem and two leaves. A frustrated grunt sounded from the dwarf as he threw the green bits to the ground. Against his better judgement, Bilbo couldn’t help the small laugh that fell from his lips.

“You have to be gentler than that. You can’t just rip it from the ground.”

“How should I know what to do? How can you gently pick a flower?” Thorin frowned deeply.

“Watch me again,” Bilbo offered as he took another flower with ease, repeating the same motion he’d used before. Thorin’s second attempt faired no better than his first and he began to stand, angrily pushing away from the ground. He nearly stumbled when Bilbo caught his pant leg and tugged at it.

“Sit back down, Thorin. You won’t learn if you just give up.”

Thorin raised his eyebrows. No one would typically speak to him in such a manner, certainly not an outsider. Still, he was compelled to do as Bilbo had said and only a moment’s hesitation later, he was doing just that. He flopped back down onto his knees somewhat like a child who’d been scolded, crossing his arms.

“Okay, now you have to actually try again,” Bilbo gently reminded him with a soft smile.

Thorin rolled his eyes before reaching in once more and nearly wasting another flower before Bilbo’s hand stopped him. He gently repositioned Thorin’s fingers to just below the leaves and adjusted the angle of his arm. Guiding him the whole way, Bilbo twisted their shared grip just so and with a slight snap, the flower was free and intact in Thorin’s large hand.

A grin lit Thorin’s face as he brought the flora up to his line of sight, Bilbo’s hand falling away. He looked at Bilbo who wore an odd sort of expression, but not an unpleasant one. It was just that the hobbit had never seen Thorin truly smile one time since they had set out, and truthfully, it was a like the sun had begun to shine anew. He’d never been so struck by a simple smile before, and yet there he was staring openly at the handsome dwarf before him.

Thorin’s smile faded as Bilbo stared until he cleared his throat, quickly standing. “Good work, master burglar. We’ll eat well tonight thanks to you.”

Something in Bilbo’s heart fluttered again at the praise and a tiny smile slid onto his lips as Thorin left him to his own devices. Feeling eyes on him, however, he soon realized that Nori and Ori had stilled in their own work to watch the exchange between the two and Bilbo looked up to see them giving him encouraging signals. If his heart had been busy before, it did double time at the implications of what they were encouraging in him. That had been a completely innocent moment, thank you! Leveling a glare at them, he turned back to his work with renewed vigor, the sudden desire to please Thorin becoming a strong motivator in the hopes that he might be the recipient of that stunning grin once more.

-~-

Night crept in on them quickly and they built up a new fire, gathering the meat from the day’s hunt. Kili had been extremely successful and if they did not hunt again for the next two days, they would still be set for a good day or so on top of that. He’d felled a large stag and several rabbits, not to mention a few large birds. It was a fine haul by anyone’s standards.

They chose to dine on venison for the night, celebrating a hard day’s work and with Bilbo’s help, they had prepared a sweet mead-like drink that wasn’t quite as strong as what they preferred, but it definitely smoothed out their edges a good bit. The older members of their band spun tales of dwarven kind long gone from the world, tales that had no doubt been heard a thousand times before but they captivated Bilbo entirely.

Songs soon filled the air, and it wasn’t long before Fili and Kili were begging Thorin to sing of the lonely mountain again. Bilbo watched emotional turmoil flit across strong features before the deep vocal tones he’d only heard but once filled the space around them. He realized he hadn’t truly appreciated the melancholy tune when he’d heard it that night in Bag End. Having walked the roads alongside this company, suffered as they did, committed himself to their cause... it gave the music an entirely new feeling to Bilbo.

As the last notes of the song filtered away, Thorin watched the fire deep in thought. To Bilbo, his gaze seemed haunted. It was no wonder the others felt their leader deserved a break. If this was the strain he constantly placed on himself, he couldn’t keep it up indefinitely. It would drive anyone into a depressive state.

With silence stretching out around them, Fili took a seat next to Thorin and leaned onto his uncle’s shoulder in an act of comfort. The fire popped and scattered embers into the air above, though none seemed to be bothered. Catching a movement from the corner of his eye, Bilbo turned in time to see Fili lean further into his uncle’s space until his lips met with Thorin’s neck in a soft kiss. Another followed and another until the younger dwarf had oriented his body to nearly blanket Thorin on that side and allow himself better maneuverability as his lips continued placing slow kisses and what Bilbo suspected were even bites along first his neck then his jaw.

Swallowing thickly, Bilbo tore his gaze away. It was not his place to watch them, and why should he be so intrigued by the image they presented anyhow? He knew at least ten personal rules he ought to be concerned about breaking but in a second, his gaze had drifted back to the still seated dwarves. Across the way, he was rather alarmed to find the intense gaze of one Thorin Oakenshield pinning him in place even as Fili was nearly straddling him now.

“Enough.” Thorin finally spoke, voice gruff with barely restrained arousal. Fili pulled back only slightly, looking rather affected himself, but as he began to return to his task, Thorin placed a strong hand on his nephew’s chest. “Not tonight.”

It had been a simple answer with a complex meaning and with a heavy sigh, Fili knew he would get no further that night. Straightening in his seat, he shamelessly adjusted his evident arousal in his breeches while the others silently counted another failed attempt in the books. 

The entire exchange was not lost on Balin, however. Had it been any other night in any other company, Thorin would have been putty in Fili’s capable hands, but something was different now. Something had significantly changed in the dynamic of their party and the old dwarf suspected no one was quite aware of the shift just yet.

As Thorin stood and retreated to his bedroll for the night, Balin knew only time would tell just exactly how things had begun to change.


	2. Chapter 2

The morning sun brought a day like any other. Several of the dwarves had risen early to bathe in one of the large streams nearby. Bilbo had been careful to decline their offer to join them. Despite their time together, he was always overly careful to bathe alone if at all possible. There had been exceptions, but they were few. His baths were simply the only time he allowed himself to relax and enjoy the beautiful scenery around them. He liked having a moment where no one was watching him, no one disturbing his thoughts. It kept him sane.

Even as he finished his breakfast and watched the majority of the company strike out towards the water, he shook his head. As lovely as a good cleaning sounded, he’d have to wait his turn. His alone time was all the more precious with the maddening thoughts he’d been saddled with over the last two days. He certainly didn’t need any of those filling his brain as he was surrounded by naked dwarves.

“You should go with them,” came a familiar deep voice from close behind him, nearly sending Bilbo jumping out of his skin.

“Thorin! I thought you’d gone with the others,” Bilbo turned to halfway face the dwarf where he was standing with a slight smirk on face.

“I don’t trust them right now. They think I’m too thick to recognize what they’ve been up to,” he sighed and took a seat next to their burglar.

“You  _ know _ ?”

“Of course I know. Those nephews of mine have been like flies, constantly buzzing about with their suggestions and offers. I half expect to find one of them waiting in my bed tonight,” his voice was tired but still held a tone of mirth.

“Why do you not, I mean, if you don’t mind me being so forward,” Bilbo stumbled over the question. “Why not take them up on it?”

“I don’t know,” Thorin mused quietly without offering any other explanation.

Bilbo looked at him, truly looked him over in the morning light, and it was painfully obvious that exhaustion had settled heavily into Thorin. His eyes had dark bags beneath them, the blue of his gaze almost dull with the need for a restful sleep. Lines of worry were etched deep at the corners of his eyes and in the very set of his mouth.

The hobbit studied for a moment on his own preferences. Were he in a state such as this, what would ease his aches? Surely dwarves were not so different that he couldn’t find something simple to lessen their leader’s burdens. Making up his mind, Bilbo stood and moved behind Thorin who turned to consider the smaller male over his shoulder.

“Tell me you are not conspiring against me as well, master burglar,” another smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he addressed him.

“May I?” Bilbo asked simply, placing his hands on Thorin’s shoulders.

A moment passed between them where Bilbo suspected there were a dozen thoughts going through both their minds, least of all the most obvious question of his own motives and whether he truly was in on their little plot.

Finally, Thorin gave him a small nod and turned his back fully once more. Wasting no time, with slow and gentle pressure at first, the hobbit began working his fingers into the tight muscles of his shoulders. Normally covered in armor and furs, the warm days had found many of the company is their tunics and breeches when they were not traveling and Bilbo wondered if such weight could contribute to the tension he was feeling. It was a wonder Thorin did not ache every minute of the day with his body so wound up!

Letting his eyes slip closed, Thorin groaned softly as skillful hands kneaded his shoulders. Only a moment later, Bilbo emitted an annoyed huff and brushed the long hair of the other over his shoulder, fingertips grazing the nape of Thorin’s neck. Goosebumps rose along his torso as a pleasant tingle went through the dwarf. There was no time to process the sensation however as Bilbo quickly returned to his work, earning another drawn out moan from him.

“I’m not entirely convinced this is not some well-thought out plot against me,” Thorin said, voice low.

“Are dwarves never just nice to one another in between all of that...  _ intimate  _ business?” Bilbo did not falter as he bantered with his counterpart. “You do know that it’s perfectly reasonable to do this sort of thing without any ulterior motives?”

“You know, I think you hobbits could actually teach us a thing or two after all.”

Bilbo snorted and rolled his eyes. Thorin was possibly even more stubborn than he’d given him credit for. In retaliation, Bilbo dug his thumbs into a particularly tight knot in his back and began working it over. The sharp intake of breath that sounded from the dwarf should have been satisfying, but it caused a peculiar blush to settle on Bilbo’s cheeks. Silently, he set about finding the worst places of tension in Thorin’s back and easing them out one by one. He was rewarded with several more grunts and gasps.

“I get the sense that I might have upset you.”

Thorin’s voice startled Bilbo from his reverie, and he noted that it had changed timbre. If he’d not heard the way Thorin had addressed Fili from the previous night, he would have never known, but now the arousal in it was unmistakable.

“What gives you that idea?” Bilbo answered finally.

Reaching up, Thorin grasped Bilbo’s wrist to still him and turned himself to face the hobbit properly.

“Just a hunch.”

“Thorin, I swear I’m not in on any sort of plot or deception. I’m not even sure-“

“I know.”

“You... I’m sorry?”

“I’m well aware that you’re not a part of my company’s scheme against me. You’ve been nothing but honest with me.”

“Well, good. That’s good, then.” Bilbo was still intensely aware of Thorin’s grip on his wrist and his eyes fell on it instinctively.

Opening his mouth as if to say something more, Thorin only just heard the rustling of leaves behind them and managed to release Bilbo in time for Dwalin to return, still damp from his bath. Taking in the state of Bilbo who was by now looking flushed and somewhat shaken, his senses were on edge, but it was Thorin who was most telling.

Dwalin had known Thorin for a good many years and was arguably one of his closest friends and advisors. The very fact that their leader made a point of not looking him in the eye but rather scrutinizing a completely normal leaf by his boot told him something was amiss. He narrowed his eyes as he began to put two and two together. It was clear enough that he had interrupted something, but he hesitated to say just what.

“I’m going to head off to wash up after all.”  Bilbo stated quickly, giving Thorin one last glance before he half-dashed past Dwalin and into the trees.

“It would seem that they’ve been going about this the wrong way,” Dwalin said as he passed Thorin.

“And just what exactly do you mean by that?”

“Hit a nerve, have I?” Dwalin grinned as he began donning his armor, glancing back at the other dwarf. “There’s no shame in it. Bilbo is a fine looking fellow.”

“What makes you think I would take an interest in him of all people?” Thorin crossed his arms indignantly.

“Brother, even  _ I  _ could tell you two had been up to something just now.”

“We weren’t  _ up to  _ anything!”

“Mm, a right shame too. The boys are right. You’re a mess,” Dwalin said as he came to stand before Thorin.

“Why does everyone think that all of a sudden?” Thorin threw his hands up out of frustration. “Have I lost that much respect?”

“Not in the least, but you’re moody for one thing, and I can’t remember the last time you ate with the rest of us. I know how important this is to you, to all of us,” he rested a large hand on their leader’s shoulder, “ but we can’t have you dying out here because you’re too bullheaded to take care of yourself. If you die on this journey, it had better be honorably in battle.”

Thorin glared at first but could recognize the well meaning behind his comrade’s words. He finally hung his head in mild defeat.

“You’re right, as so many times before,” he began. “About a few things.”

“What will you do now?” Dwalin asked, a question laden with unspoken potential.

The heavy sigh that fell from Thorin’s lips preceded a statement that surprised even his old friend.

“Well, it  _ has _ been a long time since I have courted anyone...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this update has taken so long! This has gotten a lot deeper than I had anticipated, and I debated on whether or not to post a short update or one long, drawn out chapter. The more I think and the more I write, I just started planning a slow build up instead of the one or two chapters I had originally anticipated...
> 
> Anyhow, thank you so much for reading and for everyone who has commented or left kudos! I appreciate each and every one of you! I'll try to have another update for you as soon as I can!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your patience both with me and this work! I’ve been going through some life changes lately, including a new job, but I hope to devote more of my time back to writing now. As always, bless you for all of your comments and kudos. They give me the strength to keep creating things for all of you to enjoy!

The day was wearing on as Thorin considered his options. Dwalin was right, much as it irked him. His attraction to Bilbo had crept up on him, and he was having some difficulty coming to terms with it. Somewhere between the long days on the road and the often much too short nights, between the shared laughter and the occasional attempt on their lives, Thorin had begun to feel quite fond of the hobbit. While Bilbo was acquired as a means to an end, he had become a friend and had the possibility of so much more...

No, he just did  _ not _ have the time to be lusting after anyone! Their quest took precedence over any lesser needs he may have. Besides all that, the care and safety of their company fell on his shoulders. He couldn’t afford to be distracted by an overly involved courtship!

_ If Master Baggins even agrees to  _ be _ courted… _

Thorin continued weighing the “pros” and “cons” as he retrieved a modest breakfast from their rations, including a handful of the delicate flowers Bilbo had gathered.

As he indulged in the sweet petals, he recalled their burglar, hands gentle as he guided Thorin’s own hand. A perfectly innocent moment, and yet, as he remembered the warmth of Bilbo’s hand covering his own, the push of his grip as he twisted them together to remove the flower from the ground…

He added a tally to the “pros” column.

He was still very much engrossed in his thoughts when more of their company began returning to camp. The sound of relaxed discussion and banter filtered through the trees, pulling him from his reverie. He finished the last bites of his meal as Bombur and Dori broke the tree line.

“Now don’t tell me I’ve missed the meal again?” Bombur remarked, rather distraught.

A smile tugged at the corner of Thorin’s mouth. “Not at all, brother. I’ve only just finished but there’s plenty more to be had.”

Bombur eagerly made his way to the food supply to begin preparing his own meal as Dori shook his head.

“Let the rest of us eat first next time, Thorin. He’s been talking all morning about how famished he is. Those rations won’t last the night.”

Thorin couldn’t help the grin that took him. “We’ve survived him this long. Perhaps we’ll manage.”

More dwarves trickled in slowly, looking refreshed from their baths. As they settled into their own routines, Thorin took his own leave of the company to make for the water. In the back of his mind, he noted that Bilbo had not yet returned, but he was curious to find that the thought only gave his steps more purpose. As he approached the stream, he was struck by a very distinct lack of hobbit in the immediate vicinity.

A bend in the stream not far from him was sheltered from view by an overgrowth of foliage, and Thorin’s brain took a mischievous turn.

_ If I were a hobbit with a very deeply-imbedded sense of privacy… _

The dwarf made his way towards the secluded section, only halfway concealing his advance. Familiar clothes came into view, neatly folded on the exposed root of a tree, because of course they were. He’d expect nothing less. Soft splashing reached his ears, the combination of nature and the usual sounds of bathing, and as Bilbo finally came into view, Thorin realized his folly.

His back not quite entirely turned to Thorin, Bilbo’s hair was pressed to his face in dark curls that dripped ever downward. The soft pink of his skin shone where the running water of the stream reflected the sunlight up onto his legs. Where Thorin was used to seeing the hardened flesh of muscle, the bruises and pain of survival, he saw none of that in Bilbo. The hobbit was soft with curves that spoke of a good life eating good food and drinking good wine, and Thorin was struck with the desire to feel that softness beneath his own hands.

Watching him, he was shocked to discover Bilbo was actually  _ humming. _ Granted, they hadn’t spent any great amount of time together, but he had never joined in their songs or tales. He had always sat idly by and observed. Some of the others had assumed he couldn’t sing, or at the very least didn’t care to. His voice was quiet, not overly deep, but a steady tenor that was pleasant in conjunction with the other natural ambience around them. It would seem the hobbit was full of surprises lately.

Positioning himself beneath a nearby tree, Thorin was enthralled by the spectacle the other man presented. The humming took on a word or two here and there, and Bilbo squatted down to scrub the cool water over his arms and chest. Thorin absolutely did  _ not _ notice the way the position rounded out certain…  _ aspects _ of the hobbit, and he would  _ never _ tilt his head in any manner to get a better view.

It was odd the way a person might feel another gaze lingering on them. When the sensation of being watched slid up Bilbo’s spine, he did his best to ignore it. There were bound to be any number of creatures out here that could be looking at him. What he had not anticipated was glancing over his shoulder and finding the intense gaze of one rightful-heir-to-the-throne-under-the-mountain dwarf trained precisely on his nude form. Bilbo very nearly fell square on his behind as he hurriedly moved to cover himself. Thankfully, there was no blunder, but he wouldn’t count it as his most graceful moment.

“Don’t stop on my account, Master Baggins.” Thorin chuckled.

“Is this some other… other…  _ thing _ dwarves do that I’m just now finding out about?” Bilbo felt the flush of embarrassment tinged with something he didn’t currently care to examine beginning to bloom across his chest and up his neck.

“No.”

Well, what an entirely helpful explanation that turned out to be, though Bilbo looked away as the implications of what Thorin  _ hadn’t _ said settled over him.

“I’m nearly finished if you don’t mind-“ Bilbo started, and faltered, as he watched Thorin begin to undress.

Without a word of warning, Thorin completely stripped himself and approached Bilbo, wading into the stream. He held the hobbit’s gaze until he was just past him into the slightly deeper water at which point he finally looked away and began washing himself.

Bilbo looked down. And away. And around. And anywhere that wasn’t Thorin. It was likely only seconds, but it felt like millennia passed before Bilbo realized he was perfectly capable of not standing about like a bump on a log. He was walking himself to shore when Thorin spoke once more. It seemed he was getting quite good at interrupting Bilbo just as he was getting his head on straight.

“It’s a shame, you know.”

“I’m sorry?” Bilbo was careful to keep his gaze on his shoreline destination.

“You not being in on the plot against me. A true shame.”

If hobbit heads weren’t so sensibly attached, Bilbo’s might have popped right off with the speed at which it spun around to look at the dwarf behind him.

“I’m beginning to think,” Thorin paused to wet his hair and wash over his face, “given the opportunity...” he scrubbed over his neck and chest, “you would have been the victor of the whole arrangement.”

Piercing blue eyes turned onto Bilbo once again and he swallowed thickly. He mentally cursed his peripherals for allowing him to register Thorin’s hands trailing lower and lower, until he closed his eyes altogether.

When he reopened them, Thorin had turned away once more and was combing through his hair.

“And what if I am part of it?” Bilbo hoped he sounded more confident than he felt or looked. He’d never had a knack for bluffing.

“Then you and I are going to have quite a lot of fun.” Thorin’s grin was obvious and Bilbo’s blush redoubled itself.

Satisfied that his hair was mostly combed and far cleaner than it had been, Thorin rinsed himself thoroughly once more. With one last moment to wring the excess water out of his tresses, he began his own trek back to the shore.

After Thorin passed him, Bilbo seemed to snap back to himself and hurriedly followed behind him.

“Thorin, listen, I’m not sure what sort of hobbit you think I am-“

“A fairly typical one, I’d expect.”

“Typical is a little less than how I’d describe myself,” he muttered beneath his breath before hurriedly continuing. “What I mean is, this whole arrangement, I don’t know that I’m exactly comfortable-“

“Then you needn’t worry about it.”

“Except that I  _ am _ worried about it!” Bilbo huffed out as they reached their clothes at last. He shrank back the tiniest bit as Thorin looked at him. “I  _ am _ worried about it, except it’s not exactly worry. I’m… intrigued. I still don’t know what my morals say about it all, but I’d thank you very much not to assume I am some naïve creature to be poked fun at.”

The dwarf’s face softened as he heard Bilbo out. “You have travelled with us a great distance from your home, master burglar, and have a great deal more to traverse. I trust you as one of our company, and any humor I find in you is not at your expense, I can promise you that.”

Taken aback, Bilbo considered him for a time before nodding. “Good. Thank you.”

“Although I certainly meant what I said. It would seem that you have my attention, Master Baggins.”

What in the world he was going to do with that attention was a mystery to Bilbo, but as he stood looking back at Thorin with an excited sort of tension sparking to life between them, he was beginning to imagine some enticing options.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Saddle up, folks. We're in the thick of it now. This is an ever-changing piece of fiction and I'm making some long term plans as the story progresses.
> 
> This has become more of a fix-it fic but I promise I've not lost the original premise or intentions. I just felt what I wanted to write and accomplish needed to happen over a longer period of time.
> 
> That being said, much of this chapter is spent establishing events that happened canonically and how they've affected the characters as I've written them. Once we get through the major bits, I have big plans and ideas for this story and how I want to continue the cultural exchange between Bilbo and the dwarves.
> 
> As always, thank you all so much for all of your encouragement and kind words. I appreciate all of you. xx

Thorin watched the tip of Bilbo’s tongue swipe across his lip, an action far more indecent than should have been possible. 

“I actually propose we play a bit of a game,” Thorin continued as he reached for his clothes. 

“Game?” This couldn’t be a good idea, but Bilbo found himself listening intently. 

“I have a hunch that Fili and Kili will double their advances on me tonight. We could give them a show, make them think you’ve had the upper hand this whole time.” 

Definitely a terrible idea. Why did Bilbo find it so appealing? 

“What sort of show did you have in mind?” Bilbo began pulling on his own clothes as calmly as possible as if his heart wasn’t about to hammer its way out of his chest. 

“Just a little bit of heavy suggestion, unless we get carried away.” Thorin grinned and Bilbo was overcome with the same sensation from the forest the day prior. It was like he was learning how to see the dwarf all over again. Every new smile, every little nuance that had become so common during their journey, felt like a blow to his self-control. 

“I- I don’t know about all of this. Hobbits don’t typically make such forward and open displays of affection, and certainly not with anyone they aren’t in a courtship of sorts with.” Bilbo pulled his shirt over his head, ruffling his hair into a mess of curls. 

“And if we were?” 

“Excuse me?”  

Thorin straightened his own tunic, studying the hem of his sleeve as he continued. “If we were in a courtship?” 

“Thorin… are you asking to court me?” Bilbo’s mouth felt dry, his thoughts a jumble. It had been one short day since he’d learned of this new custom among the company and now he was on the receiving end of a possible courtship! 

“I’m sure it seems sudden, but on my part, I believe it is an overdue notion. You’ve no idea how close I came to indulging my nephew last night.” 

Bilbo laughed, a quick exhale of air that was more of a snorted sound. “I think we _all_ had some idea of how close you were.” 

Hard as he fought it, a flush of mild embarrassment tinged Thorin’s cheeks. “Yes, well, my hesitation was not due to a lack of desire.” 

The hobbit simply raised his eyebrows in response, crossing his arms. 

“After that moment between us in the forest, I could only think of you, and seeing you lit by the firelight, trying so hard not to watch us…” Thorin cleared his throat and took a deep breath to steady his mind. “It wasn’t Fili I wanted.” 

Maybe it was the air here. They _were_ nearing the Misty Mountains. Perhaps it was scrambling their thoughts into madness by the minute. It was the only explanation Bilbo could think of, but it didn’t really seem all that important. He’d never been courted, not really. He’d had a few attempts through his youth, but nothing that ever promised a happy ending. Now here he was, out in the wilderness with a company of men he’d barely known a month, and he was considering a relationship with their leader! 

Somehow, after trolls and elves, and the possibility of a dragon in their future, it wasn’t the craziest idea Bilbo had ever heard. He certainly found Thorin attractive enough. Even if they’d been uninvited that night in Bag End, Bilbo distinctly remembered seeing Thorin stepping through the doorway into his home, eyes dark and brooding. Call it a cliché, but Bilbo rather liked the look, and being around Thorin constantly had not diminished the impact of those dark features and those striking blue eyes. Although, he couldn’t deny that there were times he’d wanted to slap that broodiness right off the dwarf’s face. A courtship with him could be lovely, but so soon? 

After a few minutes, the sound of Thorin clearing his throat had the halfling blinking back to attention. 

“Would you allow me the honor of courting you, Master Baggins?” Thorin asked finally. 

“Thorin… I’m flattered. Believe me, I am. It’s just…” Bilbo tried to articulate his thoughts. “I don’t think I’m ready for that sort of thing. Not yet, anyway. It’s not that I’m not interested, but we’ve not exactly been on great terms all that long and we still have a goal to accomplish. I wouldn’t feel right taking your attention away from that.“ 

Thorin’s demeanor seemed to steel before Bilbo’s eyes. He had known rejection was a possibility, it always is, but however much it might sting, Bilbo was right. They still had days where they bickered heavily and Thorin had not used half as many kind words towards him as he had cutting insults. That didn’t soften the sinking feeling in the pit of his belly, though. 

“I see.” Thorin said, stepping back slightly. “It’s probably for the best. Like you said, we still have a mountain to reclaim, and we’re not exactly friends, are we?” As he spoke, he turned and began heading back to camp. 

“Thorin, wait!” Bilbo hurried after him. “Don’t think of it that way-“ 

“You’ve made your decision clear, halfling” He fought to keep his tone even, unwilling to betray his feelings. 

“Will you stop acting like a child and let me finish?” Bilbo grabbed his arm and pulled harshly, finally causing the other man to stop. 

“What is there to finish? You’ve said your piece.” 

“For the love of- will you listen to yourself? Have you never been told ‘no’ once in your entire life?” Bilbo placed his hands on his hips. 

“That is none of your concern,” Thorin nearly growled, anger and hurt rising further within him. 

“It _is_ my concern! I’m trying to explain myself to you and you’re acting like a spoiled brat!” 

The speed with which Thorin advanced on him had Bilbo snapping his mouth shut and swallowing any further comments he might have had. Walking him back step by step, the dwarf was steadily encroaching into his personal space. 

“You know nothing of me, _b_ _ashag_ , and you forget your place. We have _allowed_ you to come along with us, but I am not above sending you back to those damn _K_ _h_ _alam_ you seemed so fond of.” 

If they’d been having a normal conversation, Bilbo would have been fascinated by Thorin’s switching so effortlessly into his dwarven tongue. As it was, having been cornered with his back to a tree, Bilbo kept his focus steadily on Thorin. “Are you quite finished?” 

A muscle in Thorin’s jaw twitched and he stared back for a moment before turning for camp once more. 

Bilbo sighed heavily, slouching back against the tree. If Thorin was that easily upset over a simple ‘not yet,’ perhaps it really was for the best that they didn’t pursue a courtship. Surely he would give in to Fili or Kili this evening and things would be more relaxed by morning, then they could enjoy their last day of rest. Patting his clothes back into place, Bilbo gave Thorin a bit of a lead before following him back towards the group. 

Breaking through into the clearing, Thorin’s presence caused a ripple to go through the company. One by one, the other dwarves took note of their king’s change in demeanor. As he passed by Balin, the white-haired male paused in his whittling of a branch to address him. 

“Thorin? Laddie, what’s happened?” 

No answer came as Thorin began donning his armor. Taking up his weapons last, he began making for the trees once more. “Dwalin, Bifur, with me. We are going hunting.” Obeying, both rose and took up their arms, exchanging a look of concern before falling in behind Thorin a moment later. 

Bilbo returned just in time to see the three of them setting off into the forest and he watched incredulously before taking in the confused faces of those left behind. Once the dwarves had disappeared from sight, Fili and Kili were upon the hobbit with hurried questions. 

“What happened? Did you try to make a move on him? Did he make a move on you?” The questions came too rapidly for Bilbo to address them in time. 

“Please!” he finally interjected. “Nothing happened!” 

“Thorin certainly acts like it.” Gloin pointed out. 

“Yes well Thorin can act however he likes!” Bilbo said in frustration, pushing past them to sit down nearby. 

As Fili and Kili approached again, Balin stopped them with a shake of his head and a raised hand. “Give him some time, lads. Things are moving a little too fast for him, I think.” 

With a last lingering look, the brothers nodded and returned to their own tasks for the time being. Balin also returned to his whittling, but kept a watchful eye on Bilbo. He could feel the emotions running high and while he often had his suspicions of the hobbit’s abilities, he had a growing fondness for the small fellow. If or when he wanted to discuss things, Balin would do his best to be ready. 

-~- 

It was late into the evening when the hunting party returned. They’d had mediocre luck, only bringing a single deer and a few rabbits. It would add to their supplies, but the sheer number of their company meant it would not go far. It also seemed that the time away had only barely cooled Thorin’s anger. He was marginally more at ease than when they’d left, transferring their haul to Bombur for cleaning before going off on his own to remove his armor for the night. 

Not far off, Bilbo was deep in conversation with Ori. They poured over his journal, the halfling enthralled with his writing and various drawings interspersed throughout. Ori recounted many of the tales he’d recorded before beginning the trek to Erebor, pleased that his work was entertaining for a change.  

At the sound of footsteps, Bilbo looked up, watching the three returning dwarves for a short time. Thorin in particular had his attention, especially consider the way they had last parted. He definitely didn’t look any friendlier, and considering his persistent silence, it was probably best to continue avoiding him. Turning back to Ori, Bilbo urged him to continue a particularly interesting recounting, though Thorin’s presence felt like a tingle at the nape of his neck. He could sense him close behind them at his bedroll and it took more willpower than Bilbo cared to admit to not continue watching him. 

With the sun setting around them, Gloin built up their fire once more and Bombur cooked for them. As each member began to gather round the glow of the flames, Thorin’s voice finally cut through the activity. 

“We make for the Misty Mountains first thing in the morning. We’ve laid about long enough.” 

“We have, but you haven’t. Come away with us, uncle.” Kili offered with a smile. 

“Kili is right, Irak’Adad. We’d be happy to take care of you for a night.” Fili agreed, walking over and putting an arm around his brother’s shoulders. 

“Perhaps after I’ve had some drink in me.” Thorin sighed, taking a seat nearby and scrubbing a hand over his face in resignation. 

His nephews exchanged a small congratulatory high five that made several others laugh softly. For Bilbo, things were playing out exactly as he’d expected, if not far easier than anticipated. Staying to himself, he chose to sit further back from the group for the night. The barrage of questions from earlier had been enough and he was doing his best not to give cause for any more inquiries into what occurred between he and Thorin. Besides, it seemed Thorin had made his decision. 

Bofur soon passed around the mead they had prepared the night before, and many drank deeply including Bilbo. Meanwhile, Fili and Kili seemed to hover around Thorin like flies, leaving small touches any chance they got. Bilbo found himself watching more openly this time around, especially given that he was partially shadowed where he rested further away from the fire. As food was finally distributed, not to mention another round of mead, Bilbo watched as Fili whispered something in Thorin’s ear that caused the older dwarf to smirk slightly. His reply was much too quiet to hear, but Fili chuckled and walked away, Thorin staring after him with a lustful gaze. Turning back to his own meal, Bilbo did not catch that same gaze drifting to him. 

When next he looked up, Bilbo was met with the sight of Kili kissing Thorin deeply, and he felt the warmth of arousal wash over him. Frozen mid-bite, he watched as Thorin’s large hand tangled in Kili’s dark tresses to bring him closer while Fili stood close behind, arms draped over Thorin’s shoulders and chest. His gaze was glued to the action in front of him, drinking it in hungrily. 

There it was again, that nagging in the back of Bilbo’s mind that he shouldn’t be watching this, definitely shouldn’t be condoning it, and sure as _hell_ shouldn’t be enjoying it. 

And yet he was, very _very_ much. 

Food forgotten, the hobbit continued to observe them as Fili placed soft kisses down Thorin’s neck. With a contented sigh, Thorin pulled back from Kili to maneuver himself, allowing Fili better access and allowing the two of them to share a brief kiss over his shoulder. They continued like this for several minutes more, Fili leaving love bites across their uncle’s flesh while Kili and Thorin shared a steadily heating embrace.  

After a time, Bilbo noted that the rest of the company seemed to be rather unsurprised and unaffected by the display, going about their dinner and conversations easily. Still, when the three of them finally began shifting away from the group to find a more private locale, Bilbo couldn’t help but to feel a sense of emptiness and… jealousy? He had no business between the three of them and still he desired to share in their time together. He’d never even considered Fili or Kili in such a way, but he would not deny that watching them so thoroughly seduce their uncle had painted them in a brand new light. 

As the company eventually settled in to sleep for the night, Bilbo was overcome with swirling thoughts and desires he’d never known he possessed before. If he focused, he could almost imagine some unmistakable sounds filtering back to the camp from the direction Thorin and his nephews had gone. No, there was no amount of distraction or imagination that could help him now, and when he finally drifted off, Bilbo was plagued by dreams of a trio of dwarves far too desirable for their own good. 

-~- 

Dawn came much too soon for the liking of most in the company, each stirring reluctantly and gathering their supplies. One of the first to rise, Bilbo was surprised to see Thorin, Fili, and Kili lying together in a tangle of arms and legs, fully clothed. In the morning light, their arrangement felt far too intimate for him to stare more than a moment. Balin gently nudged the three of them awake as Bilbo turned his attention back to breaking down the camp. 

Armor was donned and packs filled. Gloin put out the dying embers of their fire while Bombur gathered the remaining rations. Bilbo, doing his best to help where he could, still found his mind clouded from the night before but was given no time to dwell as Thorin began giving orders for them to depart.  

The days passed first slowly, then with an increased fervor among the company. By the third day, their approach of the foothills of the Misty Mountains had a thrumming excitement buzzing through them. Their progress was tangible, more than it had been thus far, and seeing the stone faces rising before them brought images of Erebor to the forefront of their minds. 

They soon found that the nights were long and cold in the mountains, although Bilbo seemed the most affected by the deep chill that settled over them after nightfall. Upon more than one occasion, he’d awoken to the warmth of heavy furs laid over his shivering form which he gratefully accepted. The warmth always lulled him back into deep slumber, although his blankets always seemed to be collected just before waking. He barely had time to question the gesture as Thorin constantly urged them onward further into the stone landscape. 

The first raindrops had not been entirely miserable. In fact, hobbits quite liked rain when they could enjoy it from the shelter of their homes with a nice hot cup of tea. Once the torrential downpours had begun, however, the enjoyment ran out rather quickly for all parties involved.  Narrow, winding paths became death traps with each step. Pebbles made slick by the weather shifted beneath their feet to cause more than a few close calls, but none so harrowing as encountering the great stone giants responsible for the weather. The chill of the mountains suddenly seemed bearable compared to the icy wash of their possible demise staring back at them. 

Great hulking beings, the stone giants were unaware of the tiny forms being buffeted by their stormy battle. Boulders large enough to flatten whole neighborhoods of the Shire were flung to and fro, sending debris scattering down the mountain side on top of the company where they had attempted to flatten themselves against the wall. After one such barrage, Thorin barked orders at them to push onward. They were too easy a target out in the open, but as their troop became separated on the knees of a giant, the words died in Thorin’s throat. Barely guiding half of them back onto the cliff face, he was helpless to watch as his comrades were carried away into the fray. 

The deafening sound of the giant’s leg meeting with the mountain was something Thorin was likely never to forget. Within mere seconds, he was sure he’d witnessed the deaths of some of his closest friends and family. Rushing forth, he called out desperately to his nephew, hoping to hear Kili’s voice in return, but as he rounded the bend and the pile of dwarves came into view, he’d never seen a more welcome sight. 

Clasping arms with each in turn and helping them to their feet, a new wave of something inexplicable settled into Thorin’s belly as Bofur’s words cut through the storm clearer than any thunder. 

“Where’s Bilbo? Where’s the hobbit?” 

Any who could began frantically searching, fear and panic rising into Thorin’s throat as someone finally called out. “There!” 

A pair of pale hands barely clung to the cliff at their feet, a wide-eyed Bilbo dangling from them. The company descended on him in a flurry of motion, grasping at his arms just as he slipped further down, crying out. Precious inches separated him from reaching their outstretched hands and he could feel his grip on the slick rocks failing. As he prepared himself to plummet, a scuffle sounded from above. 

In an instant, Thorin was over the edge. Without a thought for his own safety, he held himself one-handed as he reached down, fisting his hand in the hobbit’s clothes and hauling him to safety. The company had barely received Bilbo when the cliff crumbled beneath Thorin’s hand. It was Dwalin’s turn to snatch Thorin’s arm, bringing their king back from the brink. 

Sitting back, Dwalin regarded Bilbo with a tired nod. “I thought we’d lost our burglar.” 

Thorin turned back to look at Bilbo as well. He was unsure how much longer he could accept this arrangement Gandalf had forced upon them. They had been too close to losing half of their party just now, including Bilbo, and he didn’t know if he could forgive himself if he’d not reached the hobbit in time. 

“He’s been lost ever since he left home. He should never have come. He has no place amongst us.” Thorin’s words silenced the group, flashing hurt across Bilbo’s features. Even still, he turned away and called Dwalin to his side, leading them further into the mountains. 

Opening his mouth to reply, Bilbo realized he wasn’t even sure what he could say. Maybe Thorin had been right all along. He wasn’t made for mountain climbing or giant battles. He had burdened them at every turn. Looking down, he was surprised when Bofur placed a hand on his shoulder. 

“Give him some time to cool off. He thought he’d lost you just now. We all did.” Bofur smiled warmly, in spite of their recent peril. “Come on, then.” 

Together, they pushed onward, Bilbo engrossed in his own emotions and thoughts. 

-~- 

It was only a short time later that they were able to find shelter in a cave. Exhaustion had the company sleeping easily in the cramped quarters. Only Fili dutifully stayed alert, having been given first watch. Lying in the corner of the space, Bilbo opened his eyes after a time and sat up quietly. Breathing as softly as he could muster, he looked over the company until he was satisfied that none would notice him moving about. At least, not until he was able to get out of the cave and be on his way.  

He soon finished gathering his pack and slung it over his shoulder, making for the cave entrance. A soft shuffle sounded behind him as Fili finally took note, jumping up. 

“Where are you going?” 

Bilbo bit his lip and sighed softly before turning back to face the young dwarf. “Back to Rivendell.” 

Fili approached him as quickly and quietly as he could. “What? No, no, you can’t turn back now. You’re part of the company! You’re one of us!” 

“I’m not though, am I?” Bilbo gave him a sad smile. “I wanted to be. I really did. I think there could have been something for me among you.” He paused as he remembered Thorin’s offer of a courtship. Once this whole business had passed them by, he might have even taken him up on it. Those few short days now felt like a distant memory. He gave a long look at Thorin’s back where he lay nearby before he continued. 

“Thorin said I should never have come, and he was right. I’m not a Took. I’m a Baggins. I don’t know what I was thinking. I should have never ran out my door.” 

Thorin, lying awake, felt emotion building in his chest and crawling up his throat. He stared ahead at the wall, listening to their hushed tones. He swung between moods like a pendulum. One moment, he wanted nothing more than to get to know the hobbit, spending all of his time learning him. The next, he felt furious with Bilbo, often blaming what he suspected were his own shortcomings on him. Yet, hearing him speak so plainly of the way he’d been treated placed a deep guilt on Thorin’s shoulders. He concentrated on keeping his breathing even as Fili continued. 

“Listen, Thorin isn’t always the most eloquent with his words, but he likes you. He would die for you, Bilbo, just as he would for any of us. You’re just homesick. I understand-” 

“No, you don’t! You don’t understand, none of you do. You’re dwarves! You’re used to this life, living on the road, never settling in one place, not belonging anywhere.” 

The hurt that passed across Fili’s features cause Bilbo to realize what he’d just said. “Fili, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-“ 

“No, you’re right. We don’t belong anywhere.” He looked down at his companions for a moment before looking back up at Bilbo with a soft smile. “We’ll miss you, Master Baggins. You always have a place among us if you wish to return. I wish you all the luck in the world. I really do.” 

Exchanging one final look, Bilbo and Fili clasped arms before the halfling turned and made for the exit.  

“What’s that?” Fili said suddenly, pointing to Bilbo’s belt. 

It was just a sliver of light, but when he finally looked down, Bilbo found his sword was shining within its sheath. As he began to slide it out to examine the blade, a sharp mechanical sound echoed around them, causing Thorin to sit up and look around. Eyes connecting with Bilbo for the briefest moment, another set of sounds like that of something being released caused him to look down just as a fissure appeared in the sandy floor beneath them. The ground began rapidly disappearing into the crack, a sure sign that something was definitely wrong. 

“Up! Wake up!” Thorin cried, hurriedly jumping to his feet. “Wake up!” 

There was no time for the company to prepare , however, as the ground fell away beneath them in the form of trap doors previously hidden from view. They were sent tumbling and sliding downwards in a jumble of shouts, trying desperately to cling to anything they came into contact with, until they were finally deposited unceremoniously into a cage far below the cave where they had begun. 

Enormous bones and rope comprised the exterior of the cage, a wooden base hardly softening their landing. A long bridge of wooden slats led off into the enormous cavern they now found themselves in but as they attempted to untangle themselves, a shrieking horde of horrid creatures swarmed the bridge. Clawed hands grabbed at each dwarf in turn, snatching them from the pile to begin marching them away. Each in turn found himself pulled to his feet and met with the grotesque sight of their captors: goblins. 

Resisting at every turn to no avail, the company soon found their weapons confiscated as they were shoved forward. Nori, turning back in one moment of desperate struggling, was met with a peculiar sight - Bilbo, standing as a statue in the sea of goblins, looking shocked as they all seemed to pass by him without fail. None stopped to attack him or snatch him up. He might have been invisible for as much as they noticed him. Looking back at Nori one last time before he was dragged away, Bilbo carefully sank to the ground, kneeling down until he was on all fours. The scrambling ranks of goblins continued past him in a cacophony of screeching and taunting until the halfling was left behind, looking rather bewildered and overcome with a momentary sense of relief. 

The silence that followed the departure of the creatures felt heavy and tense, giving Bilbo every bit of cause to pull his still glowing sword out and to the ready. Creeping behind some large barrels and crates, he began to make his way in the direction the others had gone. It was only as he rounded a turn that a heavy drop came from the path ahead, a large goblin falling onto the bridge before him. In the span of a few seconds, he was charging Bilbo in a flurry of attacks. Despite his sword making contact more than a few times, Bilbo’s foe leapt onto his back, biting into the meat of the hobbit’s shoulder. With a cry, they staggered backwards, teetering on the edge of the platform. One last push to drive the goblin off was finally successful, but the momentum Bilbo had built up in his assault drove them both off the edge into the darkness below, the glow and clatter of his sword following behind. 

Further into the complex cave system, Thorin and company were ushered onward into a cavern lined with goblins of all shapes and sizes. At their center, on his throne, sat what could only be their king. His sagging, bulbous form was enormous in comparison to his underlings, a great staff by his side as he used a pile of particularly unlucky goblins to step down from his throne. A pile of weapons confiscated on the trip down were dumped at the Great Goblin’s feet, which brought a snarl to his face. 

“Who would be so bold as to come armed into my kingdom? Spies? Thieves? Assassins?” His voice was somehow both sharp as gravel and deep as a trench as he pointed an accusing finger at them. 

One of the more coherent goblins came forward to answer. “Dwarves, your malevolence.” 

“ _Dwarves?_ ” 

“We found them on our front porch!” 

“Well what are you waiting for? Search them! Every crevice, every nook.” 

The party did their best to avoid the mob of probing and prodding hands that began assaulting them, taking anything they could and crushing it underfoot. 

Once the frenzy had died down, the lumbering goblin king addressed them once more. “What business have you in these parts?” 

The hesitation of the dwarves only brought a grin to his ugly features. 

“Very well. If they will not talk, we’ll make them _squaw_ _k!_ Bring up the mangler! Bring up the bone breaker! We’ll start with the youngest.” He gestured to Kili. 

“Wait!” The cry came as Thorin pushed his way to the front to address the large goblin. 

“Well, well, where are my manners? If it isn’t Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror. King Under the Mountain.” The creature bent in a mocking bow. “Or you would be king, if you had a mountain, that is. Come to think of it, I seem to remember there being a pretty price attached to that head of yours.” 

A murmur went through the gathered crowd lining the walls. 

“Just the head, however. Nothing attached. Now who was it... ah yes! A pale orc riding a white warg.” 

Thorin’s face twisted in anger and disbelief. “Azog the Defiler was killed in battle many years ago. I saw him fall with my own eyes!” 

A deep chuckle went through the Great Goblin. He turned to a tiny goblin scribe hanging in a basket. “Send word to the pale orc. Tell him I have found his prize.” With hurried nodding and scribbling on his tablet, the servant yanked a lever that had his basket sailing off into the darkness to deliver his message. 

-~- 

Far below the raucous gathering, Bilbo was just waking. His fall had not ended in a soft landing, that was for sure, and from what he could see of the goblin he’d taken down with him, he had not fared much better. Blinking a few times , Bilbo soon realized he was lying in a patch of large mushrooms but just as he began to right himself, guttural breathing could be heard creeping towards them in the darkness. The flash of two eyes shining in the dim light suddenly came into view attached to something unlike anything Bilbo had ever seen. 

Thin, almost skin and bones with wisps of stringy hair, the pale being moved on all fours ever closer to the goblin though it did not seem to have noticed Bilbo. 

“ _Yes… yes!_ _Gollum, Gollum…”_ It seemed to circle the goblin, quite pleased with what he was seeing as he finally grabbed both feet and began to drag the creature away. It was only a few feet before the goblin seemed to come to its senses, screeching and grabbing at the pale thing holding it. 

The sounds of the two fighting were terrifying to Bilbo, even more so as he watched this new being snatch up a large rock from the floor and begin beating the goblin about the head with it until it went silent. The effort to drag it away began anew with muttered sentiments about “ _filthy_ _goblinses_ _._ ” 

Sure he was alone for now, Bilbo quickly got to his feet. Dusting himself off a bit, he assessed the damage. He was certainly sore, and his neck would need tending where the goblin had bit into him, but he could walk and nothing seemed to be broken. As he moved to step out of the mushroom patch, his foot caught the cool metal of something lying in the dirt. As he retrieved it, the sharp blue glow of his sword came into view, no longer obscured by the fungi it had been buried in. Passing through where the goblin had laid only moments ago, his sword’s glow glinted off of something all the more interesting. 

A gold ring, somehow both unremarkable and captivating as Bilbo held it up to examine it. No markings, just smooth yellow metal. It couldn’t hurt to take, he supposed, if for nothing more than a souvenir of this horrid experience. Dropping it into his jacket pocket, he was startled by more voices ahead into the cave system. The tone and pattern was identical to that of the creature he’d just seen, but there seemed to be more than one now. Trurthfully, Bilbo had never wanted to go the other direction more than he currently did, but given his options of up or forward, he made the only choice he could. 

Following a well-worn path, Bilbo soon found an underground lake lit by moonlight filtering in from above. The arguing from before had grown more distinct as he neared and he could now see a large rock jutting up from the center of the water with the pale being crouched over the goblin and singing a song to himself. Descriptions of eating and dismembering the goblin drifted back to Bilbo as hurried to hide behind another rocky formation. He watched as the goblin was struck with stones in time with the song until it gave one last cry, attempting an escape, until it’s head being met with a flurry of blows from its captor. Bilbo watched as the life went out of it. 

As the final blow was struck, the gaze of the murderous thing seemed to fall directly on Bilbo who quickly slipped back behind his rock, clutching his sword more for comfort than protection. As he looked down at the weapon, the blue glow flickered once, twice… then went out entirely. Swallowing, Bilbo closed his eyes for a short moment to gather his courage before peeking over the rock once more only to find he was now alone. The feeling of such a creature having suddenly disappeared, he realized, was far worse than knowing where it was. Turning back and leaning against the stone, he listened intently for anything, any clue as to its whereabouts. The same rasping breathing from before was suddenly much closer, and rising in volume by the second. Slowly, Bilbo’s gaze slid upwards and to the side, meeting a familiar eye shine looking back at him. 

Jumping down suddenly to face Bilbo directly, the creature spoke, “ _Bless us and splash us, precious! That’s a meaty mouthful!_ ” He began to close in and was met with the tip of Bilbo’s sword at his throat, causing him to retreat once more. “ _Gollum, Gollum!”_ He choked out. 

“Back! Stay back, I’m warning you. Don’t come any closer.” Bilbo willed his voice to quiver less, standing while keeping his attention trained on Gollum. He wasn’t sure what else to think of him as, but given that he kept uttering the word, it was as good a name as any. 

“ _It’s got an elvish blade, but it_ _’_ _s not an_ _elfs_ _. Not an_ _elfs,_ _no…_ ” Gollum squinted up at Bilbo, perplexed. “ _What is it, precious?_ ” 

“My name is Bilbo Baggins.” 

“ _Bagginses_ _? What is a_ _Bagginses_ _, precious?_ ” 

“I’m a hobbit, from the Shire.” 

“ _Oh! We like_ _goblinses_ _,_ _batses_ _and fishes_ _, but we haven’t tried_ _hobbitses_ _before. Is it soft? Is it_ juicy?” Teeth dripping with saliva, Gollum crept closer once more. 

“No! Now keep your distance! I’ll use this if I have to!” Bilbo waved his sword wildly, earning a snarl from Gollum. “I don’t want any trouble, do you understand? Just show me the way to get out of here and I’ll be on my way!” 

“ _Why? Is it lost?_ ” 

“Yes, yes, and I want to be unlost as soon as possible.” 

Before Bilbo’s eyes, Gollum’s demeanor seemed to drastically shift. His eyes seemed friendly, his smile less predatory. 

“Oh! We knows! We knows safe paths for hobbitses. _Shut up!”_  

Bilbo frowned deeply, watching the shift from this more pleasant side back into the Gollum he had originally encountered. “I didn’t say anything-“ 

“ _Wasn’t talking to you._ ” Gollum hissed. “Well, yes, we was, precious, we was…” 

“Look,” Bilbo tried again, “I don’t know what your game is, but I –“ 

Gollum suddenly leapt onto a nearby outcropping. “Games? We love games, doesn’t we, precious?” He turned to look at Bilbo once more before adding, “Does it like games? Does it? Does it like to play?” 

“Maybe?” Bilbo was quickly feeling lost in all of this switching back and forth. He just wanted to be out of this place and rid of this horrible Gollum creature. He wanted to see greenery again, not a mountain. Damn it all, he even wanted to see those insufferable dwarves again! 

Gollum had begun to recite a riddle and Bilbo did his best to catch each part of it, putting his frustrations to the side for the moment. He would need all of his patience if he was to win this game and get out. 

“What has roots that nobody sees, is taller than trees. Up, up, _up_ it goes, and yet never grows.” 

After a moment to think over each line, Bilbo answered. “The mountain.” 

“Yes, yes! Oh, let’s have another one. Come on, do it again, do it again! Ask us! _No! No more riddles! Finish him now! Gollum, Gollum!”_ He lunged towards Bilbo with frightening speed. 

“No! I want to play! I do.” Bilbo backed up a step, holing up his hand, relieved that Gollum actually stopped. “I can see that you’re very good at this. Why don’t we have a game of riddles, yes? Just you and me.”   
“Just us?” The friendlier side of Gollum was back once more. 

“Yes, just us, and if I win, you show me the way out.” 

Scampering behind the rock he’d just stood upon, Gollum seemed to confer with himself. “ _And if it loses? What then?_ If it loses, precious, then we eats it.” 

Bilbo jumped slightly as Gollum popped back over the top of the rock with a grin on his face. 

“If Baggins loses, we eats it whole.” His grin only widened. 

Pausing long enough to weigh his odds, Bilbo finally nodded. “Fair enough.” 

The riddles came, first from Gollum then from Bilbo until both grew tired of the game, Gollum beginning to circle Bilbo in the dark corners of the cave. 

“ _Last question, last chance. Ask us. Ask us!_ ” With Bilbo’s back turned, trying to think up the hardest riddle yet, Gollum grabbed a jagged rock from the cave floor in anticipation. 

“All right, yes, yes.” The hobbit walked towards the edge of the lake, searching his memory for anything he could use to stump his adversary. He kept coming up empty and the fear began to slide back up his spine. Idly fidgeting with his jacket, his fingers skimmed a lump in his pocket and an idea dawned on him at last. 

“What have I got in my pocket?” 

Gollum seemed stunned. “That’s not fair… That’s not fair, it’s against the rules!” In his fury, the rock he’d only just collected was thrown back to the ground, giving Bilbo another fright. “Ask us another one!” 

“No, no, no,” Bilbo stepped closer to him, shaking his head. “You said to ask you a question and I did. What have I got in my pocket?” 

“Three guesses, precious! It must give us three!” 

“Three guesses, very well. Guess away.” 

“Handses!” Gollum was sure he’d caught him but Bilbo’s hand was out of his pocket just in time. 

“Wrong! Guess again.” 

“Knife! _Oh, shut up!”_ Gollum crouched down, muttering to himself and slapping at the ground as his anger rose. 

“Wrong again. Last guess.” 

“String! Or nothing!” 

A small smile was upon Bilbo’s lips. “Two at once, and wrong both times.” 

The wail of anguish that left Gollum echoed around them as he fell to the ground crying. Bilbo stepped closer, looking down at him. “Come on, then. I won the game, and you promised to show me the way out.” 

In an instant, Gollum was back on his feet, slowly turning to face Bilbo. “ _Did we say so, precious? Did we say so?”_ He glared up at Bilbo. “ _What has it got in its_ _pocketses_?” 

“That’s no concern of yours. You lost.” Bilbo pushed back, trying to convey confidence. 

Slinking forward towards the halfling, Gollum reached back to his hip to retrieve something but froze when his fingers met with nothing. 

“ _Where is it?_ _Where is it? No! No! No!”_ Gollum scampered about the cave, tossing rocks and bones away in an effort to locate his lost item. “ _Lost! Curse_ _s_ _and splashes, my precious is lost!”_  

Fingers idly fidgeting with the ring in his pocket, Bilbo had the sudden realization of just what Gollum had misplaced. He quickly pulled the ring out, putting it behind his back. 

“What have you lost?” 

“ _Mustn’t ask us! Not its business! Gollum, Gollum!”_ At the edge of the lake, Gollum cried into his reflection for a brief moment before his own revelation settled over him. Slowly, he turned to once more face Bilbo. “ _What has it got in its nasty, little_ _pocketses_ _?”_  

The lack of response from the hobbit sent Gollum into a rage, Bilbo’s grip on the ring tightening even as he began to back away. 

“ _He stole it! He stole it!”_

Gollum snarled, lunging for Bilbo with alarming speed. The hobbit ducked out of the way, careful to keep his eyes on him.

"Here! This is what you've lost, yes?" Bilbo lifted the ring into view, held between his thumb and forefinger where the creature could clearly see it. "I've won your game and I have your ring-"

"My precious!" Gollum wailed, scampering towards Bilbo once more who swung his sword forward, nearly catching his foe across the chest. Gollum slid to a stop, mouth stuck in a grimace of hatred. He wanted nothing more than to have his precious back, but the promise of death was a strong motivator.

"I will return it to you if you take me to the exit, and only then, do you understand me?"

"No, we mustn't bargain with theifses! But if we doesn't, we lose our precious... Gollum Gollum..."

"Do we have a deal? You promised to take me outside if I won, and I won fair and square-"

"Wasn't fair!"

"No, no, it was perfectly fair! You couldn't answer my riddle." Bilbo was slowly but surely backing them closer to the nearest tunnel entrance in case he was forced to make a break for it. "Do we have a deal?"

The loaded silence between them felt like a weight pressing down on Bilbo as he waited for the answer to come.

Slapping his hands on the ground in defeat, Gollum finally nodded. "Yes yes, alright. We will takes it out."

Bilbo lowered his sword slightly and heaved a sigh of relief. "Good. Go one then."

With one more deep growl, Gollum reluctantly turned and crawled off into the tunnels with the hobbit a safe distance behind. Wishing with every fiber of his being, Bilbo hoped this would not end in his demise.

-~- 

The throne room was writhing with goblins. Massive instruments of torture had been carried into the room and were being prepared to receive the dwarves. Relishing in his assured victory, the goblin king danced about, singing an ominous tune detailing every step of the torture due to befall the company. 

The same underling which had introduced the company was going through their weapons, inspecting each for anything valuable or even remotely salvageable. Coming to Thorin’s blade, he moved to unsheathe it for a better look. Sliding it out a few inches, the silver sheen of Orcrist glinted in the light, causing the goblin to shriek. Throwing the sword down, he scrambled backwards as others also took note of the blade, howling in fear. Their leader gasped, pointing to the sword. 

“I know that sword! It is the Goblin Cleaver! The Biter! The blade that sliced a thousand necks!” As the Great Goblin named the sword, his minions began to beat the dwarves with anything they could find. “Slash them! Beat them! Kill them all! Cut off his head!” 

Thorin grunted as he was dragged to the ground. He watched helplessly as a knife was raised over him, bracing himself for impact only to be flattened by an immense surge of energy accompanied by a blinding white light that seemed to absorb any other light in the area. The force of the blast sent goblins flying, knocking even the great goblin prone. As the darkness steadily began to lift, a figure materialized standing at the edge of the platform and all eyes were on him. A voice rang out, calling to the dwarves, stirring them to action.  

“Take up arms. Fight. Fight!” Gandalf charged in the goblins before they’d had a chance to get their bearings, pleased to see the dwarves following suit. 

Behind him, the goblin king cried out, “He wields the Foe-Hammer, the Beater!” He scrambled up onto his throne to stay as far from the sword Glamdring as possible. 

Close to Thorin, his nephews worked in tandem to slay any goblin that crossed their paths. Slicing through his foes, Kili gave a war cry and advanced through the ranks. As suddenly as he’d taken the advantage, however, he found himself tripping over one of the many bodies littering the platform and falling onto his back. Looking up, he realized he was far too close to the throne and by proxy, the goblin king in all his horrid glory. Sensing the dwarf’s vulnerability, the creature leapt off of his perch, swinging an enormous mace downward directly at Kili’s head. 

The clash of metal rang out much too close to Kili’s head for his liking and he looked up in time to see Thorin deflect the blow, sending the goblin king staggering backwards. With a frightened howl, he tumbled off the edge into the chasm below. The space he’d emptied soon filled with more goblins as the battle raged. 

“Follow me! Quick!” Gandalf called for the dwarves once more, leading a retreat out of the throne room. If he could pull this off, and he was nearly certain that he probably could, Thorin owed him a drink. 

-~-

As they ventured further down the winding tunnels, muttered curses of “filthy hobbitses” and “thiefs” filtered back to Bilbo with the occasional stop for Gollum to turn back and look at him with a predatory gaze and a flash of teeth. He found himself wondering more than a few times if each turn or pause wasn’t some complex scheme to trap him in the heart of the mountain to be hunted down and devoured.

Cool, fresh air soon began to stir around them, hope bubbling up into the hobbit’s chest. Bilbo watched as light began to filter into the blue grey of the cave. One final turn and they were in sight of an exit that promised daylight on the other side.

Gollum paused and spun to face Bilbo, the grin on his face sickening as the more friendly side of him came out. “Now you gives us our precious!” His hand was outstretched expectantly as his gaze flickered between the hand where he knew Bilbo held the ring and his face.

”Yes, alright, but first we switch places. I don’t trust you to not attack me. No offense.” Bilbo added quickly.

”Of course, of course!” Gollum nodded good-naturedly, the words making perfect sense to him, although he did not move aside. “Except that we don’t trusts it not to give us our precious.” His grin was back.

Worrying the cool metal in his hand, the hobbit took a moment to study the situation. His only plan was not exactly a guarantee and put him far closer to danger than he would have liked. Still, what choice did he have?

“Alright, I’ll just put the ring down and you can pick it up. Then I’ll go.”

Hesitating, Gollum turned his back to Bilbo to deliberate with himself. A flurry of curses and arguments followed that Bilbo could never hope to decipher until finally, he turned back with a quick hop. 

“We agree.” He seemed to be nearly twitching with the anticipation.

Steeling himself, Bilbo brought the ring back into full view and placed it in the dirt at his feet before stepping back a good distance.

Within seconds, a howl echoed around them as Gollum descended on the ring, snatching it up. At the same moment, Bilbo took a running start and used the creature’s shoulder as a step, jumping over him in a flurry of movement. As he landed on the other side and made for the exit, the scuffle behind him caused his adrenaline to soar to new heights.

”Baggins!” Gollum called, attempting to grab at his escaping form but narrowly missing. The morning light that washed over Bilbo was the most welcome feeling in the world as he left a hissing and snarling Gollum in his wake.

Rushing down the mountainside, Bilbo searched for any sign of the others. He had  no way of knowing if they’d made it out alive, or would even pass his way, but he kept on. The further from the Misty Mountains he got the better. He didn’t pause until he was well within the trees and the way he’d come was out of sight. Leaning against the bark of one such tree, he caught his breath and waited. He waited and prayed that the next sound he heard would be someone familiar and not foe.

It felt like hours passed with the hobbit sitting there, exhausted and aching, before he heard shouts and running coming ever  closer. With a soft groan from the exertion, he got up and quickly moved to hide behind a larger tree nearby. He quieted his breath to the best of his ability as whatever was approaching drew near. When he was met with the familiar sound of a grey wizard mingled with dwarven voices, relief nearly caused him to collapse to the ground once more.

Gandalf slowed to a stop, counting off each member as they jogged past him until each dwarf was accounted for. Looking at each one again, the wizard became concerned. “Where’s Bilbo? Where’s our hobbit?” The silence that followed did not bode well. “Where is our hobbit?” Gandalf repeated more forcefully. 

“I thought he was with Dori.” Bifur answered. 

“Don’t blame me!” Dori piped up.  

Listening to them, Bilbo was reminded of his plans to return to Rivendell. It became obvious that this was his moment, his chance to go home. They thought him to be gone. He could leave this all behind and return to Bag End. Still, he couldn’t deny that seeing each dwarven face gathered about was the most welcome sight he could think of at the moment. 

“Well, where did you last see him?” The wizard felt a sinking doubt taking him. If Bilbo truly had been lost… 

“I think I saw him slip away when they first collared us!” Nori added suddenly.  

“Well, what happened exactly?” 

“I’ll tell you what happened.” Thorin stepped into the center of their gathering. “Master Baggins saw his chance and he took it. He has thought of nothing but his soft bed and his warm hearth since he stepped out of his door. Just last night he was sneaking off back to Rivendell.”

“Uncle-” Kili started but was silenced by a raised hand. 

“We will not be seeing our hobbit again. He is long gone.” Thorin’s voice held a tone of anger and sadness. He remembered well what Bilbo had said the night before and his disappearance felt too coincidental.  

Gandalf looked to him with an anguish of his own. This could spell disaster for their quest, but he sensed there was now more at stake than just the Lonely Mountain. He had only been away from them such a short time, but so much had changed. He tried to keep his faith that he had not entirely misjudged their hobbit’s character. 

His back to the tree, Bilbo considered their current position for a time. What _did_ he want? Did it truly matter what he wanted? Sure, he wanted home and the comforts it held, but what did the company want? What did they _need_? 

“No, he’s right here.” Bilbo’s said, stepping out from behind the tree to face his friends. 

“Bilbo Baggins, I’ve never been so glad to see anyone in my whole life!” Gandalf said, relieved. Beside him, Thorin looked to Bilbo with a mess of emotions flickering across his face. 

As he walked further into the space, Kili addressed him. “Bilbo, we’d given you up!” 

“How on earth did you get past the goblins?” Fili followed. 

“How indeed…” Dwalin added. 

“I honestly couldn’t tell you. It was like they just overlooked me while you were being taken away. I fell, and there was this, this... creature, unlike any I’ve ever met. And this ring-“

“You shall have to recount the whole tale for us tonight, but for now we must keep moving.” Gandalf’s smile was genuine, but he could sense that they should not tarry long in this place.

“Wait.” Thorin said suddenly. “I want to know. Why did you come back?” 

Bilbo finally mustered the courage to look at the dwarf directly, finding his gaze every bit as piercing as he’d anticipated. As if his question wasn’t difficult enough, the hobbit found that the clear look of guilt and confusion on Thorin’s face hurt his heart. 

“Thorin, I know you doubt me. I know you always have, and you’re right. I often think of Bag End.” Bilbo started with a knowing smile. “I miss my books, and my armchair, and my garden. See, that’s where I belong, that’s home. I wasn’t made for this life, these trials and battles. I’m no good with a sword or a bow. I’m no warrior.”

Thorin began to realize before Bilbo even uttered the words just what the halfling brought to the company. He spoke honestly in everything he did. He acted honorably even in his role as their burglar. He was their hope. 

“But that’s part of why I came back, because you don’t have one. A home.” He turned briefly to look at Fili, who gave him a soft, encouraging smile. Turning back to Thorin, he continued. “It was taken from you, but I will help you take it back if I can.”

Thorin was sure they did not deserve the kindness of Bilbo Baggins, but he was glad for it, even if he did not know how to show it. He hoped somehow that the hobbit could see his admiration, his respect for the path he had chosen. Their quest was not an easy one, let alone for someone who was not battle-hardened or familiar with the ways of the world. His had been a sheltered life until they barged in on him that night in the shire, and yet he willingly returned to their aide. Thorin could ask no more from him than his loyalty and he had given it. Looking back into those deep blue eyes, thoughts of courtship returned in full.  

His last proposal had been clumsy, rushed. He had been touch-starved and eager to feel another beneath him, and had only thought to use the courtship as a means of achieving that end. Honestly, his childhood teachers would likely beat him soundly about the ears for dishonoring their traditions in such a manner, and Bilbo had been well within his rights to turn him down. Now, with a clear mind, he saw that Bilbo was worth so much more than that. He deserved to be given every gift, every experience a true courtship would offer, and Thorin would do everything in his power to give that to him if he would allow him to. 

“You said that was only part of why you returned. What was the other part?” Kili piped up, curious.

Bilbo looked to the ground with a soft, almost shy smile. “Let’s just say it was a promise of things to come.” He glanced quickly from Kili and Fili to Thorin who met his gaze with an unreadable expression.

Far up the mountain from them, another threat loomed. At the edge of a cliff, a large orc astride a warg watched their gathering closely. Motioning to a large pack behind him, he commanded them. His words were harsh, spoken in the Black Speech of the orcs. 

“Run them down. Tear them to pieces.” 

The other orc riders tore off down the mountain in pursuit of the company, their warg mounts howling. 

As the sounds of their approach filtered down to them, Thorin’s eyes grew wide. “What now?” He growled, looking to Gandalf. 

“Best not to find out. Run!” Wheeling about, the wizard lead their descent down the mountain, the pack drawing ever closer. As they fled, he redacted his previous thought. Thorin was going to owe him several drinks. And dinner. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Irak’Adad - Uncle


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good Monday, everyone! Before we get into this one, if you haven’t gone back and reread chapter 4 recently, I’ve made several changes that you should check out including one very important one involving Bilbo and Gollum!
> 
> Thank you as always for your comments and kudos! Enjoy! xx

By his count, Bilbo ought to be a champion runner by the time he returned to the Shire. No more vermin running off with his vegetables, no sir. He could catch even the quickest garden thief, he reckoned.

A furious growl much too close behind him had his thoughts back on the present situation as he made his way down the mountain. Leaping over rocks and dodging around trees, the company of Thorin Oakenshield did their best to stay ahead of the steadily advancing pack of wargs.

Day soon became afternoon, then evening as their exhausted limbs somehow carried them onward. It was growing increasingly obvious that they could not keep their pace much longer, though a more pressing matter halted their progress before they reached such a state. In the waning sunset, a cliff came into view with a harrowing drop that none wanted to experience. By the time any had realized their predicament, the company was cornered in the sparse trees.

A vicious sound sent Bilbo scampering behind a rock just in time for a warg to leap at the space he’d only just occupied. Landing with a mighty _thud_ , the creature spun about to face the terrified hobbit. Fangs glinted in the dim light only moments before it lunged at him properly.

A sickening crunch filled Bilbo’s ears, eyes screwed shut. Seconds ticked by before he realized he was still very much alive and he opened his eyes to see the warg’s massive head impaled on his sword. He watched, dazed, as the beast slumped over lifeless.

Several more wargs overtook the dwarves but were easily dispatched, only to bring more upon them in an instant.

Gandalf’s voice rose above the chaos. “Up, into the trees! All of you! Climb!”

No repetition was necessary as the party traveled up into the branches high above their enemies, Bilbo barely managing to grab onto Dori’s hand to be pulled to safety. Below, the wargs circled their prey, jumping at the trees with gnashing teeth and snapping jaws. Their claws tore the bark from the trees, leaving gouges as a promise of the company’s fate

A tiny moth fluttered about near Gandalf’s perch, alighting on the end of his staff. With a gentleness, he calmly brought the creature to him and cupped his hand around it. He emitted a quiet whisper, softer than the breeze, and the moth’s wings took it away as soon as he’d finished, disappearing into the night as quickly as it had come. The wizard could only hope now that his message would be answered before their untimely demise.

Below them, the wargs had begun to part to allow their leader to approach the trees. A pale Orc with scars criss-crossing his face rode forward upon a white warg, somehow even more enormous than the others. The closer he came, the more gruesome he looked to the company. His left forearm had been severed sometime ago and replaced with a metal prosthesis of sorts, fashioned into a wicked hand-like shape ending in a spike that had been driven down through his flesh and out the back of his elbow.

As he drew near, the dwarves grew quiet, all eyes on him. One look was all it took for a chill to run through Thorin. It wasn’t possible. It simply couldn’t be.

“Azog.”

Bilbo looked from Thorin back to the orc below. Balin’s tales of their battle came rushing back to him, and he could practically feel the hatred rolling off of Thorin in waves.

Speaking in the harsh tongue of the orcs, Azog addressed Thorin directly. “Do you smell it, the scent of fear?”

The dwarf couldn’t believe his eyes. This had to be a nightmare.

“I remember your father reeked of it, Thorin son of Thrain.”

The white hot fury that rose in him nearly made him ill as the realization settled over Thorin that his father had been captured. He gripped his sword that much tighter as Azog continued.

Gesturing to Thorin, he commanded the others. “That one is mine, kill the others.”

The other riders bolted into action, their wargs and the remaining pack members leaping for the tree branches which were no match for their size and power. Limbs began to break away, the trunks shaking violently with the force. The crackling of breaking timber surrounded them as the first of the trees began to fall.

Tipping backwards with each additional warg that attacked, it slammed into the next tree behind it. The dwarves, Bilbo included, frantically clambered up until they were in the next tree’s branches. It was not long, however, before the same fate befell them. Each tree acting as a catalyst, one by one they toppled, sending the party flying into the next waiting bough until all but one had been felled.

It held fast for the time being, but given that it was on the edge of the deadly precipice, none felt overly safe. Gandalf searched the skies, desperately seeking the aid they required. They were running out of time to wait.

Turning back to the wild animals still doing their best to drag them from the tree, the wizard considered his options. His magic was strong, but it could only do so much from their current position. Startled by a large pine cone that was knocked down onto his head, Gandalf was struck by a plan.

The company was quickly running out of options, but were startled when Gandalf began calling to them by name. One by one, pine cones glowing with flame and embers were passed down the tree as their wizard companion called them to begin their assault. A rain of burning missiles came down upon the wargs, catching the dry grasses around them and quickly engulfing them in the fire. It was a matter of minutes before the landscape was a roaring wildfire with wargs singed and running for cover.

Azog was openly furious as his underlings began turning back, his pack of hounds turned to cowering pups in the face of the fire. His fury soon became delight, however, as a creaking and popping filled his ears. With a triumphant grin, he watched as the remaining tree holding the full company of Thorin Oakenshield began to tilt backwards, roots ripping from the ground and snapping in two.

Shouts of panic sounded as some began to lose their grip, slipping lower in the branches. The trunk continued its descent until it was nearly flat to the ground, dangling the dwarves over a drop to their deaths. A dark chuckle came to them from Azog and Thorin turned his gaze back to the monstrosity.

Fueled by his swirling emotions, Thorin managed to push himself up to stand, brandishing his sword and pulling his shield from his back. Walking down the decline of the tree trunk, he faced Azog head on.

Bilbo watched in horror as Thorin made a dash for the orc, blade held high. “Thorin, no-!”

The words left his mouth as the enormous white warg leapt into action, knocking Thorin away with minimal effort. Near Bilbo, Dwalin was scrambling for purchase in the branches, cursing as he tried to reach their leader. It was far too late as the hobbit continued to watch Azog pummel Thorin with his mace, flinging him to ground.

Before he could realize his own actions, Bilbo was racing downward, his own sword drawn. The blue glow was like a beacon as he charged into the battle. He was only feet away when the warg clamped its jaws tightly around Thorin’s midsection, tearing a pained cry from the dwarf. With one last toss, the near lifeless body of the would be king landed on a rock nearby.

Bleary eyed, sword slipping from his fingers, Thorin could only watch and wait for his death. As he felt himself drifting into unconsciousness, a figure obscured his view of the approaching orc riders. Shorter than a dwarf, sword glowing… he realized their burglar alone separated him from the pack.

Azog shook his head. “If you are foolish enough to defend him, you are foolish enough to die with him.”

As his minions moved to dispatch Bilbo, two other individuals suddenly slammed into their sides. Fili and Kili gave war cries as they attacked the riders and their steeds. Not far behind, Dwalin had managed to free himself and joined the fray.

Snarling, Azog set his sights on Bilbo. “I will kill you myself!” He shouted, rushing forward.

An echoing screech filled the area and before he knew what was happening, an eagle far larger than any Bilbo had ever seen had knocked Azog and his warg away as if they were nothing.

Looking to the skies, the hobbit saw more and more eagles appearing. Swooping down, they began picked the wargs off one by one, some even fanning the flames higher to drive them back. A scraping sort of sound had Bilbo spinning around to look at Thorin. He nearly fell back, startled, as he watched one of the giant birds gingerly retrieve Thorin’s limp form and sword in its talons before flying off once more.

Running after it, he could only watch helplessly as it carried their leader away into the night. As it was, he was entirely unprepared as another avian form scooped him up in a similar fashion, tossing him away. His frightened cry ended in a cushioned landing upon another bird’s back and from his new vantage point, Bilbo could see the others being retrieved from the tree and carried away to what he hoped was safety. Next to him, just ahead, he could now see Thorin’s bruised and bloodied body dangling in his eagle’s grasp.

His stomach was in knots. Thorin’s face was almost peaceful but Bilbo couldn’t tell if he was breathing. He felt tears sting his eyes as he considered the possibility that he might have been too late to save him. With his mind racing, all he could do was hold fast in the soft feathers beneath him and see where they would land. Only then would he have some answers.

-~-

When the eagles landed at the Carrock, sunrise had begun to lift the deep blues of night into shades of gold. One by one, each dwarf, hobbit, and wizard were deposited onto the large rocky outcrop. Quiet and unmoving, Thorin lay with the others running to his side as they became able. Bilbo felt the tears threaten to spill from his eyes once more as Gandalf rushed forward. The group parted to allow him to examine their king.

“Thorin! Come now, you must wake.” Gandalf gently covered Thorin’s eyes with his hand, whispering incantations he had hoped to never use. Close behind him, Bilbo stood alone, overcome by the helplessness rising in his chest by the second.

A collective sigh of relief went through the company as Thorin groaned softly, taking a shaky breath. Eyes fluttering open, he took in the faces of his brethren and their wizard guide, but found a distinct lack of the one face he truly wanted to see.

“The halfling. Bilbo-“

Gandalf stood and moved to allow Thorin’s line of sight to take in Bilbo. “Our burglar is here. He is quite safe.”

With a few helping hands, Thorin got to his feet and took a moment to get his bearings before moving towards Bilbo. “You nearly got yourself killed! What were you thinking?” His voice was slightly hoarse, strained.

Bilbo opened his mouth to speak, shocked and still very much concerned for the dwarf’s well-being, but was cut off as Thorin continued.

“Azog would have spared no one, least of all one who stands with me! Did I not say you would be a burden? Did I not tell you that you had no place among us?” As he spoke, Thorin advanced on Bilbo until they were face to face.

The silence that followed was deafening until Thorin’s face softened and filled with emotion. “I have never been so wrong in all my life.”

Reaching out, he gathered the hobbit into a tight embrace, laughs of relief and a couple of cheers sounded from the group behind them.

“I thought I’d lost you again, Master Baggins, and all from my own foolishness.” Thorin said softly.

Bilbo was awash in a sea of feelings and he buried his face in Thorin’s shoulder, letting a few tears finally escape. “I thought I’d been too late. I thought you were dead.”

“It takes more than that to kill a dwarf.” Thorin said, smiling as he pulled back to look at the hobbit’s tear-stained visage. A gentle thumb wiped away another drop trying to make its way downward.

Fili and Kili shared a knowing look as they watched Thorin and Bilbo together. Gandalf raised an eyebrow, realizing at last what had transpired in his absence. Well, at the very least he knew Thorin now had something else he was fighting for.

“We will make camp here tonight. The eagles have given us a head start, but we will not have long before the orcs find us again.” Gandalf said finally, giving the group one last glance before moving some distance away where one of the eagles had landed and was waiting patiently for him.

With one last shared look that Bilbo took as a promise, though of what he couldn’t be sure, Thorin released him to begin helping the others make camp. Rubbing the tears from his eyes, he took a deep breath and straightened his clothes before joining them.

Much of their day was spent with Gandalf healing any serious wounds, taking special care with Bilbo’s shoulder where the goblin had bitten into him. As he sat shirtless, Gandalf speaking magic into his broken flesh and Oín applying his own homemade salve, the halfling caught Thorin’s gaze more then once openly lingering on him.

The eagles soon returned with a healthy supply of food for them. By the afternoon, they were all fed and healed, making plans for the coming days as they set out for the Lonely Moutain once more. As they all sat making conversation early in the evening, Ori called to Bilbo.

“Master Baggins, tell us more of how you escaped the Misty Mountains!”

“Yes! Please Bilbo?” Kili added from where he sat in front of Fili, his brother’s arms wrapped around him possessively.

“Oh, I don’t know. It really wasn’t all that exciting…” Bilbo feigned nonchalance.

“You said there was a creature and a ring!” Nori pointed out. “Doesn’t sound boring to me.”

Bilbo grinned in spite of himself. “Well… alright, but I don’t think I’m as good a storyteller as any of you.”

Taking center stage, the hobbit recounted his tale in great detail, even gaining the attention of Gandalf and Thorin where they stood close by discussing strategies. It was Thorin who first picked up on Bilbo’s voice excitedly describing the caves and the lake where he’d first truly faced off with Gollum. He stopped the wizard mid-sentence to turn and watch the halfling gesturing animatedly in his retelling.

“Gandalf, I think we’ve done enough talking for now. I fully plan to spend the night with my company.” Thorin finally said, scrubbing a hand over his face. “We will plan on the road in the morning. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I would very much like to listen to our burglar.” He was already turning away to start for the circle of his company to listen more closely. The wizard caught his shoulder before he could escape.

“I see you, Thorin Oakenshield.”

Thorin paused, eyes steadily looking towards his companions. Waiting.

“Do not go into this lightly. Bilbo is not someone for you to take to bed on a whim. Do I make myself clear?”

Turning to consider the wizard over his shoulder, Thorin gave a single nod. “Understood.”

With a heavy sigh, Gandalf nodded as well and released him to join the others. He would have to trust that Thorin knew what he was doing for now. A hobbit’s heart was tender and large, overflowing with love and warmth, but if it were broken, it might be a very long time before it was healed if ever. This quest was far from being a guaranteed victory, and if he couldn’t say how Bilbo would handle all of the trials before, knowing that love was in the mix only made his doubts grow.

Thorin moved over to sit next to Dwalin, across the way from Bilbo, watching his every move as he went through each harrowing minute with Gollum. He found himself delighting in the way Bilbo’s face lit up when he spoke of outsmarting the creature and laughing as he described the way this Gollum spoke.

Bilbo hadn’t really noticed Thorin sitting down, and truly he hadn’t noticed as his story wore on long after the sun set. Each time he’d get truly into the thick of it, one of the dwarves would ask him a question or marvel at a certain detail. Ori dutifully wrote down every word, occasionally stopping to ask Bilbo to repeat something for him, but he kept up remarkably well from the hobbit’s point of view.

“And really, that’s all of it. I ran down the mountainside and not long after, all of you were right behind me.” Bilbo finished, shrugging and place his hands on his knees.

“That’s quite the tale, lad, and a fine one at that. I imagine you’ll get asked to retell that one a time or two.” Balin laughed, pulling at his beard.

“Oh I don’t know. It might be worn out after another telling.”

“What? No! That’s just when it gets good!” Kili said, incredulous.

“It was a great tale, ghivashel.” Thorin had spoken the word before he’d realized what he’d said and the looks he received from every other dwarf in attendance told him it had not been missed by a single one. Except for Bilbo.

“I’m not very familiar with your language, I’m afraid. What does that mean exactly?”

“It means-“ Dori started, but was quickly intercepted.

“It’s a friendly term. We don’t use very often, though.” Thorin added quickly, shooting Dori a warning glare. “It just sort of slipped out. I apologize, Master Baggins.”

“No, it was nice. I actually find other languages fascinating.” Bilbo smiled warmly. “Could you teach me more of it? When we have less to worry about?”

“It would be my pleasure.” Thorin smiled in return.

Bombur, who had been idly snacking throughout Bilbo’s recounting, had finished his food and gave a mighty yawn. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m still feeling this whole day. I’m going to sleep while I have the chance.”

“I believe Bombur has a point. You will need your rest if we are to continue. You should all consider turning in.” Gandalf stated. “I will watch over you this night.”

With exchanges pleasantries, they began to tuck in for the night. It had been an exhausting couple of days for all involved and no one was against resting. Still, as the hush of sleep fell over them, Bilbo found himself tossing and turning.

At first, he thought perhaps the rock was more firm beneath his furs than he’d grown used to, but he couldn’t think of a time the ground had been softer. Then he thought perhaps his shoulder might have been stiff and uncomfortable, but even when he concentrated directly on it, he could feel no more pain. Finally, he gave a soft huff and sat up.

He saw where Gandalf had posted himself not far away, but was sitting with his hat drawn low over his eyes as if he too were asleep. Bilbo gave him a momentary glance. Despite his appearance, he was sure they were safe with him taking watch. Quietly stirring, the hobbit stood and walked towards the far cliff edge where the fire light did not quite reach and the moon lit the stone. Sitting carefully, he then swung his legs over the side to dangle comfortably and leaned back onto his palms to look up at the sky.

In the cool night air, he took it all in. The scenery was breathtaking, and in the distance, he could see a large landmark looming. It dominated the skyline and he believed he knew it for what it was. It served as a reminder of what they were here for, why they kept going everyday in spite of the hardships they had faced.

“I never thought I’d see her again.” A deep voice startled Bilbo, causing him to jump. Thorin chuckled softly, moving to sit next to his companion. “I did not mean to frighten you, Master Baggins.”

“No, i-it’s alright. I just thought everyone was asleep by now.”

“Mm, I think the rest are. I heard you get up.”

“I’m sorry.” Bilbo had hoped he’d been quiet enough not to wake anyone.

“Don’t be. I rarely sleep heavily anymore. I don’t think I had even drifted off when you stirred.”

Bilbo looked at him, taking in his dark features painted in the moonlight. He still had some nicks and cuts from the battle earlier, but they were hardly noticeable now thanks to Gandalf and Oín. Only thin red lines remained, but Bilbo could still remember the blood that stained his face, that pain of seeing his lifeless form being carried by that eagle.

“Is that…?” He asked after a time, turning back towards the mountain in the distance.

“Erebor, the Lonely Mountain.”

“Its beautiful.”

“Wait until you see her up close. Those halls beneath her face, room after room of the best dwarven craftsmanship.” Thorin described his home with a small smile.

“You’ll have to show me around when we get there.” Bilbo gave a smile of his own, one that only grew when he felt Thorin turn to look at him. When he himself looked over to meet Thorin’s gaze, he found his face to be intense and open. More open than Bilbo had probably ever seen it.

“Thank you, Master Baggins. I know I have not been kind to you and I cannot even say that the coming days will be different, but I will try. You deserve that much from me at the very least. You saved my life today.”

Bilbo looked down at his own lap, smile faltering. “I saw you running out there towards Azog and I have never been more afraid of losing someone in my life. When that thing bit into you, I…” He paused, tears burning his eyes once more. “If I’d been too late, I don’t know what I would have done.”

“Ghivashel…” Thorin breathed, his own emotions running high.

At the word, Bilbo looked up once more and met the dwarf’s gaze. He was surprised to find Thorin’s hand coming up to cup his cheek. He was perhaps even more shocked to find himself pressing into the careful touch.

Leaning forward at last, Thorin captured Bilbo’s lips in the softest kiss. A gentle press of lips and the subtle scratch of his beard against Bilbo’s face. It was the most lovely display of affection the hobbit had ever experienced and yet it set his whole world on end in the best ways.

It only lasted a short few seconds before Thorin pulled back. His words seemed to tumblr forth almost unexpectedly. “I know you said it was too soon. If I’ve overstepped my bounds, you only need to tell me.”

“No, no” Bilbo started, “I didn’t mind. It was lovely.” His smile was warm and genuine, his cheeks tinged a light pink.

Thorin felt a soft blush creep over his own face. “Then, if I may?” He brushed a stray curl away from Bilbo’s forehead.

“Please do.”

Their lips connected again in another kiss, this one more languorous than the last. Bilbo found himself leaning further into Thorin with each passing moment and when they finally parted, he gave his own sigh of contentment.

“Is this what Fili and Kili get to share with you all the time?” He asked, causing Thorin to blink before shaking his head with a grin. It would seem the halfling was not short on surprises.

“I don’t know that we typically share _this_ sort of moment, but we’ve certainly kissed.”

“And more.”

“Yes, and more.” Thorin paused to look at Bilbo who was now carefully avoiding his gaze. “Does it bother you?”

“I don’t think bother is the right word, really.”

Thorin waited, hoping Bilbo would elaborate further but the hobbit offered no more explanation than that. He made a note to himself to ask about it when they had more time. He looked back out towards Erebor as he spoke.

“My nephews share more moments like this with one another, I would say.”

“Have they courted each other?”

“Oh yes, many years ago, although they kept their courtship secret for quite some time. There are still some who would frown on their involvement, and Kili feared their relationship might impede Fili’s grooming for the throne.”

“Fili is the next heir after yourself?” Bilbo asked, his surprise evident.

“Yes, does that shock you?” Thorin gave him a sideways grin.

“I just expected that you would have children somewhere, I suppose. I can’t imagine someone like you would not have been romantically involved in the past.” Bilbo felt his blush returning, though in part from embarrassment.

“Oh, I’ve had plenty of romantic involvement, but not in the manner you speak of. I actually never saw myself having my own children, and Fili and Kili have always been like my own sons anyhow. Not to mention that I’m now well past the age where most dwarves try to court anyone or think of settling down.”

“You could probably say the same about me. Most hobbits are good and settled in with someone by my age.”

Thorin raised an eyebrow. “You strike me as someone still very young.”

“I’m 50 this year, well middle-aged for a hobbit I’m afraid.”

The look on Thorin’s face would have been priceless if it didn’t confuse Bilbo so much. He still found himself laughing slightly. “Was it something I said?”

“Master Baggins, do you know how old I am?”

Bilbo shook his head. “Not exactly. I seem to recall that dwarves live longer then hobbits, though. I do remember learning that somewhere in my youth.”

Thorin began to chuckle softly, the sound growing into a full laugh and he honestly couldn’t be arsed to care if it woke anyone. This was just too wholesome. Bilbo had no right to be so adorably naïve to the world.

When his laughter had finally slowed a bit, with Bilbo looking slightly perturbed about it all, Thorin placed a hand on Bilbo’s knee and explained. “I am nearly two hundred years old, halfling.”

The number didn’t even process in Bilbo’s mind. Thorin looked middle-aged, and the hobbit obviously found him to be rather attractive, but nowhere in all of his thoughts had he ever consider that Thorin might be so much older than himself.

“What?” Bilbo said after a moment, still trying to comprehend.

“One hundred and ninety-five.”

“But, I’m sorry, just… how? You barely look older than myself!”

Thorin was laughing again, hunched over with his hair framing his face. Bilbo huffed and crossed his arms. “I don’t see what is so funny about this!”

“You are. You’re adorable.” Thorin explained between laughs.

Bilbo, cheeks flushed both from embarrassment and the compliment, pushed himself up to a standing position. “I’m going back to bed.” He turned to head back to his own designated bedroll.

Thorin quickly stood, still trying to stifle his laughter. “Bilbo, wait. It’s not a bad thing!” He put his hands on his hips, watching Bilbo walking away. Finally, still smiling to himself, he sighed. “Goodnight, ghivashel.”

Bilbo paused, fists tight with indignation, before turning and half stomping back to look Thorin in the eye. Before he thought better of it, he leaned up and gave the dwarf a soft kiss. “Good night.”

Satisfied with the shock now on Thorin’s features, Bilbo once more headed off to bed.

Thorin watched the hobbit lie down and get comfortable before he let himself think about what they’d just shared. Mahal help him. This hobbit would be the death of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ghivashel - treasure of all treasures


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin catches some grief from the company and Bilbo finds himself in a very delicate position

The following morning was surprisingly uneventful, something the company took as a nice reprieve. Bilbo himself would have likely slept much longer if he had not been woken by cheerful voices nearby.

“Just let that slip out, didn’t you?” Dwalin could be heard, his voice filled with mirth.

“I didn’t exactly plan it, if that’s what you’re meaning.” Bilbo identified Thorin’s voice next.

“You’re lucky he doesn’t speak Khuzdul. _That_ would have been a dead giveaway.” Bofur added his own to the mix.

“Is anyone here my brother or have you all turned against me?”

Bilbo smiled sleepily as he heard a few chuckles. Now this was the company he had grown to love. When they had the chance to ease their worries for a time, they were full of mischief and vigor. They were _fun_.

“Do not think I didn’t see the two of you last night.” Gandalf’s words caused Bilbo’s face to light up in a heated blush. He’d rather forgotten the wizard had been taking watch when he and Thorin had shared their brief intimacy.

“Saw them? Doing what?” Dori asked.

“Yes, uncle, doing what exactly?” Fili crossed his arms.

“That is no one’s business, but if you must know, we sat up and talked for a time.” Thorin replied, perhaps a bit too defensive.

“How in depth was this talk, laddie?” Balin nudged Thorin’s shoulder knowingly.

“Mark my words. When we reclaim Erebor, I’m locking every doorway in. I’ll rule alone. You can all live outside with the damn elves.”

Deciding he had suffered enough, Bilbo stirred and finally sat up. He stretched, turning to look at the group. “Morning.”

Thorin, face in his hands where he sat not far from him, gave a muffled grunt in return.

Kili rushed over, squatting down to look Bilbo in the eye. “Master Baggins. Did you or did you not have sex with our uncle last night?”

If he could have disappeared into the rock beneath him, that would have honestly been preferable to Bilbo. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think that’s any of your business!”

“So you did?”

“Well, no! What sort of hobbit do you take me for?” Bilbo crossed his arms then, face burning.

“It’s a fair question. Gandalf said he saw you with Thorin after all.” Kili shrugged.

“And Gandalf should learn to mind his own business.” Bilbo shot him a glare, causing the wizard to choke on his pipe smoke with a laugh.

“Leave our burglar alone. He’s barely awake.” Thorin tried, giving Bilbo an apologetic look.

“Yes, and I’ve got breakfast nearly done!” Bombur called from the fire.

As they all converged on the large dwarf to receive their portion of food, Bilbo sighed in relief and stood. He combed his fingers through his wild curls, hoping to arrange them into something more presentable than his messy bedhead. As he tamed them, he looked back towards the mountain. In the morning light, he was struck by how far it still was. He felt they’d spent ages on the road, and had that much again left to go, and that was just to reach the mountain. He paled at the thought of the dragon he’d been told was dwelling within. The very same dragon he was supposed to sneak past somehow. That was his entire purpose of being on the quest, wasn’t it?

“Bilbo, come eat!” Bofur called to him, holding out two bowls.

“Yes, yes, coming!” Bilbo called back, giving the mountain one last look before going to join the others.

There was pleasant chatter throughout breakfast and much talk of the mountain. Fili and Kili in particular seemed to be full of questions. Between the older members of their company, the two dwarves were eager to hear even the most insignificant details if it included Erebor, most of which they had heard plenty of times before.

Much to their dismay, Gandalf was soon urging them onward. The road before them was still long and fraught with danger, not least of all the orcs no doubt still chasing them. They could not afford to dither too long. The eagles watched over their departure, a gesture not lost on Thorin who made clear that he would be at their service should any need ever arise, and with that, they were off.

They trekked long into the night, choosing to hike straight through until the dense forest made it near impossible to see. Thorin finally called them to a stop, the waning moon already high in the sky. No fire was built as they could not guarantee their safety, and the company huddled close in the cool night air. Bilbo was near the outside of the group, trying his best to pull warmth from the dwarves at his back, when he startled himself awake. Something was moving in the dark around them.

He couldn’t quite say how he knew where it was, or how he could tell it was there, but he definitely could. The brief glimpse he caught of it between some trees, a great hulking shadow, might have resembled a bear, but if it were, it was far and away the largest one he’d ever known. Come to think of it, that was getting to be a recurring theme for Bilbo on his journey. Perhaps things were just smaller in the Shire.

“Gandalf.” Bilbo whispered, unsure of where the wizard was in their ball of warmth, but hopeful he would be able to hear him.

When no response came, he nudged the form to his left which happened to be Bofur. A grunt came from him in response.

“Who’s on watch?” Bilbo asked quickly.

“Mm, Gloin, I think” Bofur’s tired voice said in return.

“Well, where is he?”

Bofur lifted his head a bit, looking around and blinking the sleep from his eyes. “He’s… uh. Well.”

“There’s something in the woods watching us.” Bilbo finally said, eyes still straining to see the creature in the darkness.

“Did you see what it was?” Bofur asked, now far more alert. Grabbing his hammer where it lay at his hip, he shoved at his cousin where he sat to his left. Bifur groaned, rubbing his face. “Wake up, Bilbo’s seen something in the woods.”

A ripple went through the company, one by one waking until all were roused. Somewhere behind Bilbo, he heard their leader. “What did it look like?”

“Enormous, like a bear maybe? Or something similar.” The hobbit answered.

“Where is Gloin? He was supposed to be on first watch!”

“He’s here, he was asleep!” Dwalin spat, swatting aforementioned dwarf across the back of the head.

Thorin cursed in Khuzdul, a sound that Bilbo found surprisingly attractive and something he chose to revisit later when they weren’t being hunted.

“Do you still see it?” Standing, Thorin drew his sword.

“No, it went to my left, but I haven’t seen it again.” Bilbo strained to see anything in the low light of the forest.

Silence filled the space for only a moment before a roar sounded somewhere close by, sending the company scrambling for their weapons. Bilbo carefully drew his own sword, relieved to see the sheen of ordinary metal and not the neon blue of its magic. At the very least, there were not orcs or goblins lurking in the woods around them. Not yet.

Snapping twigs followed the roar, putting Thorin on edge. He walked closer to the sound, still within view of the company, and waited. Seconds turned into minutes before he heard a shuffling and whatever had been stalking them seemed to retreat. Another roar came, this time from much further away, and their king lowered his weapon at last.

“It would seem whatever we attracted has moved on for now.”

“If that _was_ a bear, then we are far closer to our next destination than I had realized.” Gandalf’s words brought no one any comfort.

“And what destination might that be?” Bombur asked for the whole lot of them.

“A cabin large enough to house all of us, _and_ the home of a valuable ally should we be able to convince him of it.”

“Convince him?” Thorin turned to face the wizard.

“He is not overly fond of dwarves.”

-~-

They resumed their pace with the morning light, though an unease had taken the company knowing that something was among them, unseen and possibly tracking their every move. It hurried their steps onward through the towering trees.

Nearing midday, it was Balin who stopped the company with another unfortunate realization. “Thorin, what do you hear?”

Pausing to take in their surroundings, their leader shook his head. “I don’t hear anything.”

“Exactly. Nothing. No birds, no squirrels, silence. It’s not right.” Balin frowned deeply.

“We must keep moving.” Gandalf tried, making his way past Thorin in an attempt to keep the momentum.

A horn sounded from the direction they’d already come, a low tone that echoed across the hills. It sent shivers down Bilbo’s spine as he looked to Thorin with worry.

“A hunting call. They’ve found our trail. Move!” Thorin called, spurring his company to action. Gandalf in the lead, they fled ever deeper into the forest.

“Where is that cabin your promised us, Gandalf?” Nori called to the wizard.

“We should reach it by sundown.” Gandalf panted back, doing his best to stay up with the others. “We continue south from here.” He prayed that their host would not be home when they arrived. He should like some time to think of how best to approach him with a company of twelve dwarves and a hobbit.

The hours seemed to drag on as they ran, only stopping when absolutely necessary. One moment found Bilbo tripping over an exposed tree root, crying out as he fell. Thorin was on him in an instant, far more mindful of their burglar after nearly losing him one too many times. He lifted him back to his feet, eyes searching the halfling’s face for signs of injury or pain.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes, I think so.” Bilbo panted, chest tight and throat burning, but otherwise fine.

Thorin nodded, hands lingering on the hobbit for a moment before returning to their task. He could hear the sounds of the wargs growing closer in the distance. Each time they stopped, he feared Azog would be upon them. He couldn’t let that happen, not when their goal was now in plain sight.

The afternoon light began to grow pink with dusk and Gandalf found himself doubting their course. They should have seen it by now. It was not a dainty place. If he’d been wrong and misjudged their path…

Rather suddenly, his doubts vanished as they came face to face with the snarling visage of an enormous bear. There was no warning, no noise to give away his position until they were upon him. Rearing up to his full height, the bear had them shrinking back in fear.

Laying eyes on the creature, Gandalf breathed a sigh of relief, though it was short lived. While this creature meant they were near their destination, they were far from safe. He could choose to devour their entire group if he wished and never give them another thought. Before the wizard’s mind could devise a means of escape, the calls of orcs came from the rear, catching the beast’s attention. Seeming to consider the party for a moment before dropping back onto all fours with a huff, it tore off into the trees towards the approaching pack of wargs, leaving the company rattled.

“We must go now! Hurry!” Gandalf commanded them, feet carrying him in the direction the bear had appeared from.

The trees eventually gave way to a large clearing, the last distance separating them from relative safety. Behind them, the ominous snapping of branches motivated them to dig in that much deeper. Across the way, the welcome sight of a large stone wall and an open gate beckoned to them. At last, each arrived at the homestead Gandalf had spoken of. They made for a stable to the side of what appeared to be the main residence, forcing their way inwards. The smell of fresh hay and livestock was far more welcome than Bilbo thought he would ever admit.

Slamming the large doors behind them, the dwarves quickly barred the entrance and stood back to catch their breath. There was a heavy tension among them, an obvious question of whether they had truly outrun both bear and orc.

The evening sun filtered in through several small windows around the room, allowing them to take in their surroundings. It was Bifur who first turned to Gandalf and began asking him questions in Khuzdul. The wizard leaned heavily on his staff, nodding as he listened.

“Yes, yes, but we _will_ be safe here for the time being. Beorn will provide us with lodging and supplies to travel through Mirkwood.” Gandalf addressed the dwarf.

“I’m sorry, who is Beorn?” Bilbo asked, stepping around Gloin.

“He would be our host… as well as the bear we encountered not long ago.”

“What sort of curse would cause that?” Dori gave Ori a quick glance, ensuring he was close by and safe from any foul magic lingering about.

“No curses, Dori. Beorn is a skinchanger, and rumored to be the last of his kind still alive in Middle Earth.”

A hush fell over the company as they took in this strange new knowledge and pondered what sort of host this Beorn would be. Many conversed among themselves about how he would look. Would he be a great bear or a man? What sort of temperament would he have?

“Did you not say he disliked dwarven kind?” Thorin asked.

“I did.” Gandalf’s tone was serious. “We will need to be cautious in how we present ourselves to him. We do not wish to invite his anger upon us. Now, I expect he will return in the morning. Bilbo and myself will greet him then I will introduce the rest of you gradually. Twelve of you may be too much, but a few at a time may just do the trick.”

Thorin’s gaze was unreadable as he regarded the wizard, although he eventually nodded. “Fine. As you say, then.”

“Well, I say we get comfortable.” Fili piped up, stretching. “We’ve got the night to wait, yes?”

“Aye, it appears that way.” Balin replied.

“Fantastic.” The older of the two brothers heaved a long sigh. “I’m going to lay down in this hay and pretend my feet don’t exist.” He promptly flopped down in a nearby pile of hay and propped his feet up against a post.

“Honestly, that doesn’t sound half bad.” Kili soon joined his brother.

It didn’t take long before most of the company had adopted similar positions. Even with livestock tied at the other end of the stable, there was still plenty of room left for the party to stretch out. Bilbo noted that Thorin, Dwalin, and Balin still sat close to one another, talking in hushed tones. He sat not far from them, his back to a wall. It gave him a much needed sense of stability and safety, something he was severely lacking in recent days. Head leaned back, the halfling simply watched as the light began to soften into nighttime around them.

-~-

He must have dozed off at some point as the next thing Bilbo knew, he had begun to slump sideways. Jerking himself awake, he realized the stable was now dark and still around him, the sounds of soft breathing coming from his companions. Where he leaned against the wall, the three dwarves in the stall behind him could be heard softly snoring away. Yawning, he shifted into a more comfortable position lying down and was well on his way to drifting off once more when a low groan caught his attention.

Waiting, he lowered his breathing to the softest level he could and listened harder. Another more urgent moan from somewhere close by had his heart picking up speed. Carefully sitting up once more, Bilbo tried to search the darkness for the source of the sounds. Had one of them been hiding injuries? Dwarves were notoriously stubborn, a rumor he’d found to be true very early on. The next sound was very definitely _not_ pained, however, and Bilbo felt heat creep up into his cheeks.

He also realized just where the sounds had been emanating from, and in the dim light of the stable, he could make out familiar forms across the way from him. The slightly larger form of Fili was entangled with the leaner Kili, enough so that they almost appeared as one, and their movements were telling to say the least.

“Please…” Kili’s voice was desperate, and Bilbo tried just as desperately not to watch them, but he found he could not tear his eyes away.

“That’s it, Kili. Mahal, you’re so _tight-“_ Fili’s voice was choked off as he gasped in pleasure.

Bilbo bit back his own gasp as the clouds seemed to clear outside, allowing more moonlight to slant in through the windows. It was just enough light for him to see the curves of Fili’s body while he pushed into his brother beneath him. He imagined he could see Kili’s face, eyes dark as he looked up at his lover, biting his lip to stifle his moans.

The halfling had a prime viewing point to see every second the two of them shared, and to hear every pleading whimper or whispered encouragement. He felt arousal pool in his own belly as he did his best to not eavesdrop, but in such a small space, the task was nigh impossible and he couldn’t help himself. He watched as Fili set a moderate pace of give and take, Kili responding with a lovely set of appreciative moans.

“Harder, Fili!”

“As you wish, ghivashel.”

And if that wasn’t an entirely new issue. Bilbo was sure he’d heard him correctly. There was no mistaking that word, not when he’d already heard Thorin use it in reference to him. It was very obviously more than the friendly term he’d been led to believe, and the knowledge that whatever it meant, it was something Thorin felt for him… The hobbit was experiencing a lot of emotions at the moment.

Bilbo snapped back to the present as the activity between the brothers began to rise in fervor. He could see Kili covering his mouth now, trying his hardest to muffle himself, and it would be a wonder if Fili’s knees were not bruised in the morning. His own trousers had grown tight and he ached to touch himself, something any respectable hobbit would never dream to do so publicly, but he was beginning to question the merits of being a respectable hobbit these days…

It only took a few short moments before Kili could be heard gasping his brother’s name, his back arched as Fili continued with abandon. Seconds passed, perhaps a minute at most, and Fili was finishing as well with a mix of common and Khuzdul words that sounded filthy even to Bilbo’s untrained ear.

As the commotion began to fade, the hobbit watched the two dwarves care for one another, cleaning and rearranging gently. It was obvious that this was where their true intimacy resided. Sex was pleasure, but this aftercare, the whispered words of endearment and praise, _this_ was where love flourished between them. Bilbo suddenly felt as if he were intruding. An odd thing, considering the scene he’d just witnessed without any great amount of hesitation on his own part.

“You are beautiful, amrâlimê.” Fili spoke gently against Kili’s cheek, fingers brushing his dark hair away from his face before leaning in for a soft kiss.

Careful to remain quiet, Bilbo shifted and finally turned away from the brothers. He’d been given more than enough for his brain to process, and he’d probably be imagining their coupling for a good while. It would be a wonder if he could sleep after such a thing, not to mention this new knowledge of certain Khuzdul terms and the implications of Thorin using such terms with him.

He caught himself wondering what such intimacy would be like with their leader. Would he be gentle, caring and understanding of Bilbo’s inexperience? Would his hands feel rough and calloused where they touched him? A pleasant tingle went down Bilbo’s spine as he imagined.

He thought of those striking eyes looking at him with such intensity that it made him burn with it. He imagined Thorin aching for him, beside himself with need. It was a stroke to his ego, but by the Valar, did it take Bilbo’s arousal to new heights.

This was _not_ the time for this! They hadn’t even fully escaped Azog and they had just outrun a bear! He should not be lying in the dark fantasizing about a dwarf. Well, not just any dwarf, but a dwarf that was also a king. A dwarf who was also a king who had called him ‘ghivashel.’ And kissed him. Twice.

A dwarven king who was inches away on the other side of a damn wall.

Said dwarf was in fact sitting with his back to the same wall, awake and straining to hear any other sounds from the hobbit. His mind replayed the quiet gasp Bilbo had made shortly after he heard him stir. It was the shortest of sounds, but it had gone directly to Thorin’s groin.

There was no way he’d not seen them. Thorin knew Fili and Kili had bedded down directly across the way and would be in full view to anyone who took it upon themselves to look their direction. If Bilbo had been paying even a slight bit of attention, he couldn’t miss them.

He’d heard their burglar shuffle about a bit, just before Fili and Kili grew more vocal, and then Mahal _that gasp._ Thorin palmed himself through his breeches as he wondered if Bilbo had watched the whole time or if he’d looked away. Had the hobbit enjoyed seeing them together? Had he been ashamed as he grew hard with arousal?

Biting his lip, Thorin let his head rest against the wall. He listened to Bilbo’s soft breathing in the darkness and fought to keep his own even. He thought of their kisses, how soft Bilbo’s lips had been. In his mind, he traced every curve of the halfling’s body that day standing in the creek. He felt the creamy flesh beneath his hands and relished in each desperate whimper he pulled from him.

The dwarf pictured Bilbo’s face overcome with ecstasy. He imagined what he might say as his release was found at the hands of the king under the mountain. He could almost hear him cursing, writhing beneath him, and he was the most delectable thing Thorin had ever imagined in his life.

Thorin made quick work of his belt, wincing at the metallic sound of it coming undone. With it open, he hastily pulled at his clothing, finally shimmying his breeches down his hips to take himself in hand. With a shaky intake of breath, Thorin began an agonizing pattern of steady strokes along his length. While the logical part of him remained hopeful that Bilbo was blissfully unaware of his actions, the part that he was currently indulging wanted the hobbit to hear and to _want._

Why was it, Bilbo wondered, he hadn’t combusted yet? First Fili and Kili, which had been quite the show, and then his mind had been so helpful in supplying him with anything and everything Thorin had ever done, all of which seemed more attractive than ever given the hobbit’s current state of arousal. Now, feeling much like his body would burn up from the desire within it, the sound of a clasp coming undone reached his ears.

He’d heard it plenty of times on their journey as armor had been removed and added. It was quick and somewhat muffled, but unmistakeable. It was also directly beyond the wall where he laid. His mind did not disappointment in the images it assaulted him with.

Thorin panted softly as he brought himself closer to his orgasm by the second. Eyes tightly shut, he fisted his other hand in his furs to try to ground himself, but to no avail as he teetered on the edge of release.

Bilbo could hear him now, breaths ragged, and the steady, dull drag of skin on skin. It just had to be Thorin and he no longer knew or cared if it was fantasy. His own cock ached to be touched, yet he held off. He waited, taking in each tiny indication of movement from the dwarf and letting it drag him further under.

“ _Ghivashel_.”

Thorin’s desperate whisper was all it took for Bilbo to come undone completely untouched. He clamped his hand over his mouth, stifling his whimpers as best he could. A low groan from the dwarf on the other side of the wall signaled Thorin’s own climax and Bilbo drank in the now slick sounds of his last few strokes.

Thorin was thoroughly spent. He felt like his legs were stone as he sat catching his breath and he licked his lips. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d come so hard, let alone in his own hand. As he did his best to clean up and fix his attire, he was pensive. This attraction was growing more intense by the day. He had to reign himself in. He had to stay focused, but Bilbo was making that very difficult indeed. If they could just get to Erebor, retake the mountain, he would have all the time in the world to act on these new desires of his.

Bilbo slowly came down from his high, body tingling. The soft shuffling from the other side of the wall signaled that Thorin had redressed and was settling in again. The hobbit now found himself growing cold, wishing nothing more than to be wrapped up in the larger form of the dwarf. An odd mixture of emotions soon crept over him. What might Thorin think of him if he found out? If he knew Bilbo had been so careless, so _wanton_ , would he still desire him?

Burying his face in his hands, Bilbo felt his worries swirling anxiously in his belly as he tried to find sleep. When he did eventually drift off, it was a fitful slumber with little decent rest. Morning was coming far too soon, after all, and he would have to face Thorin in the light of the sun.

-~-

The sun did rise again and with it rose the company of Thorin Oakenshield. Gandalf was already making plans on how best to introduce them all when Bilbo joined the group looking all kinds of exhausted. He pointedly ignored the questioning eyes he could feel on him.

“Ah, good morning Bilbo. I was just about to discuss your role in this.” Gandalf greeted him warmly, although the wizard could see the bags under his eyes and unease in his stance. He thought it had been a rather good night given what Fili and Kili had got up to, but it appeared that was not the case for some.

“My role in…?”

“Your role in ensuring our host thinks favorably of us.” Gandalf’s smile was one of his most encouraging. “You and I will go out to Beorn first. Given his feelings toward dwarves, we will have the rest of you join us two at a time so as to not overwhelm him.”

“Why must I go out first, then?” Bilbo asked, fingers combing through his hair nervously.

“Hobbits are warm, kindly folk. You are most likely to be someone Beorn will accept and like, so I intend to use that to our advantage.”

Bristling slightly at being so obviously described as a means to an end, Bilbo chose to let it pass. “Okay.” He nodded with resolve.

“Good. Now, the rest of you, I will signal for you to come out. Remember, two at a time!”

Thorin’s eyes were on Bilbo as he walked out by Gandalf’s side, hoping to catch his gaze but to no avail. With resignation, he sighed. “Alright, you heard the wizard. Bofur, keep an eye out for his signal.”

Dwalin, at Thorin’s side, cleared his throat. “You know he was awake last night, right?”

“Don’t remind me.” Thorin’s cheeks heated as he ignored the smirk on his comrade’s face.

-~-

The meeting with Beorn went… not to plan. While he was less than happy with twelve dwarves taking up residence in his home, he chose not to kill anyone so Gandalf felt it was a successful introduction. Their gamble had paid off for now.

As they sat down to breakfast, Beorn began his own interrogation of them. Pouring them great tankards of milk as he moved about the room, his voice filled the space easily. His tall form both fit the space and somehow seemed too large for it all at once.

“There are no dwarves I wish to familiarize with, but I know the line of Durin when I see it. You are the one they call Oakenshield.” Beorn only slightly looked over to Thorin to acknowledge him where he chose to stand nearby. “You have made some unfortunate enemies. Tell me. Why does Azog the Defiler want you dead?”

“What do you know of Azog?” Thorin’s eyes widened.

“My people are very familiar with the ways of the orcs.” The broken shackle around the skinchanger’s wrist clanked as he served them.

“Are there many of you out here?” Bilbo asked, taking a sip of his milk. Gandalf’s words from before lingered in his mind. Rumors could be wrong, after all, and Bilbo liked to imagine he wasn’t so alone as they’d been told.

“There were.” The unspoken heaviness of his answer hung in the room.

“Azog has personally vowed to end the line of Durin.” Thorin answered after a time.

“Then their ways have not changed. What would you do after leaving here?”

“We set out for Erebor. We must reach it before Durin’s Day.” Gandalf replied in turn.

“Your time grows short.”

“We must travel through Mirkwood if we are to reach it in time.”

“You would risk the darkness of that place for one mountain?”

“It’s more than a mountain! It’s our home!” Kili stood with conviction.

“And say you do retake it. What will be the cost?” Beorn looked down upon the young dwarf, face stern. With Fili’s hand on his arm, Kili took his seat once more. “You will never reach Mirkwood before the orcs overtake you. You’ll be dead before you’ve begun.”

“What would you suggest?” Gandalf asked hesitantly.

“The forest is crawling with wretched creatures driven by the curse upon that place. The elves that dwell within are not like their cousins. They are unpredictable at best.” Crossing his arms, Beorn walked across the room to look Thorin in the eye. “I do not like dwarves. You are greedy, arrogant.”

Thorin drew himself up to his full height, standing firm in the face of the man before him. Beorn looked him over once before nodding.

“Still, I like orcs even less. I will help you however I can.”

“Then do you have any place I could wash up? Privately.” Bilbo asked, his voice halfway cracking on the last word.

-~-

It turned out that Beorn, for all his rough edges, had quite a nice washing area, although rustic might have been a better term. Bilbo was surprised to find a separate area behind the large home designated for bathing, something he wondered if the skinchanger even used.

It was large enough around for three or four hobbits with a fence of wooden slats encircling the space and built to cover Beorn from mid-torso down, meaning it was well above Bilbo’s head. The ground had been covered with large smooth pebbles within the fence that allowed water to easily seep through to the ground. Only a Beorn-sized door broke the barrier, promising the privacy Bilbo craved.

A large kettle filled with water was hung from a sturdy hook nearby and a makeshift brazier of sorts held smoldering coals beneath, heating the liquid within without boiling it entirely. Bilbo couldn’t quite reach the top of the kettle but a cord had been attached to it and upon giving it a gentle tug, it caused the kettle to tip forward and spill the warm water down onto his outstretched hand. He sighed happily at the prospect of feeling that liquid covering him from head to toe.

Upon his inspection of the space, Bilbo noted the plants growing around the outer base of the fence. A plant with tall stems of bell-shaped white flowers, it was lovely and it was certainly no coincidence that they were planted there. Kneeling, Bilbo carefully extracted one small portion of the plant, roots coming loose in his grip. Laying it just inside the fence, Bilbo gave one last cursory glance around to ensure his seclusion before disrobing, folding his clothes neatly nearby. As he came back into the space, he wasted no time in stepping over to the kettle to let the warmed water wash over him. He moaned softly at the feeling. Oh yes, this was going to be _wonderful_.

“You’re not going to let him go out there alone, are you?” Dwalin came up to stand next to Thorin where he waited, leaned against the door frame looking out across Beorn’s rather impressive garden.

“That’s what he asked for.”

“True. Shame you’ll miss the chance to mention last night.”

The annoyance rolled off of Thorin in waves. “Last night does not need mentioning.”

“Oh yes, it’s rather run of the mill to bring each other off on opposite sides of a stable wall. Absolutely normal, that is.”

Thorin shot him a glare. “How would you have me _mention_ it to him?”

Dwalin shrugged. “Excuse me, Master Baggins, may I join you? Oh and by the way, I heard you last night getting off to my nephews and I may have finished to the thought of you.”

If Thorin had been eating or drinking, he would have choked. “That is _not_ what happened!” Gaining some looks from the group gathered further back in the home, Thorin brought his voice back to a more manageable level. “That is not what happened.”

“Alright.” Dwalin let the matter drop. After a few seconds passed, with a nod, he stepped out of the door and headed around towards the bath. He began to slide his own furs off and unbuckle his armor as he walked.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Thorin sounded almost panicked.

“Bilbo’s a handsome lad. I’m going to enjoy the view.”

Thorin advanced on him in an instant, blocking his path. “You will do no such thing.” It was a clear warning.

“Are you going to stop me?” Dwalin’s gaze was calm as it met Thorin’s. Crossing his arms, he continued. “Go talk to him, Thorin. We don’t get many chances to have some privacy with people we love.”

Thorin hated being wrong but he hated when Dwalin was right far more. The smug smirk creeping over the other dwarf’s features was infuriating.

“Don’t you dare say another word.” Thorin said as he turned away, stalking off towards the bath with Dwalin merely shaking his head as he returned to the house.

Thorin could hear Bilbo washing as he drew near to the fence. Walking about until he was closest to the sounds within, he turned and leaned his back against the wood comfortably.

“I think the first thing I will show you at Erebor will be the baths.”

Bilbo gave a tiny, startled yelp at the sound of Thorin’s voice. “Could you not have waited until I was back inside?!”

“If it’s any consolation, I had every intention of giving you your space but I had some persuasion.”

“And what sort of persuasion would be motivation enough for you to come out here? And Thorin let me tell you, it had better be a damn good reason or I swear-“

“Someone else getting here first.”

Oh.

“I’m not exactly a married hobbit, you know.” Bilbo’s voice had softened.

“I plan to change that one day.”

The hobbit sighed softly and ran a hand down his face. “Just get in here, already.”

“Bilbo-“

“I won’t say it again.”

Thorin was undressed in record time. As he rounded the corner into the bath, he was swiftly reminded of all the things about Bilbo he was trying not to focus on lately. Those same soft lines, although he had to admit that the halfling had lost some weight in recent days, and the damp curls of hair trailing water from the nape of his neck down his back.

“If you’re staying, you might as well clean up too. Soap is over there.” Bilbo looked back at him with a smile, gesturing to the plants laying close to Thorin’s feet.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to educate me on how I’m supposed to use a plant for soap.” Thorin bent and picked up one of the plants by its long roots.

“You never learned a thing about nature, did you.” The hobbit paused to step beneath the kettle and rinse his hair before he approached Thorin.

After shaking a few stray drops away, Bilbo tucked his hair behind his left ear. He glanced up at Thorin briefly before taking the plant from his grasp.

“They’re called soapweed. You break the roots off and crush them in your hands, see?” The hobbit demonstrated as he spoke, using his hands to crush and break the roots apart until a nice lather had formed between them. He turned them outward to show Thorin properly.

“You never cease to impress, Master Baggins.” Thorin smiled down at him.

“Good, I plan to to keep it that way.” Bilbo grinned as he leaned up for a quick kiss that left Thorin dumbfounded before he found soap smeared across his cheek and nose.

“Oh that’s your game, is it?” The dwarf grinned and charged at Bilbo with a playful growl.

They went round once, both a mess of laughter, before Thorin cornered him, grabbing his hands and attempting to strong arm him into suffering the same soapy fate. It was only afterwards, with Bilbo leaned back on the fence still laughing and Thorin’s arms boxing him in on either side that the dwarf realized their proximity.

Bilbo’s cheeks were flushed a rosy pink after their playful spat, laughter fading as he finally looked at Thorin, also recognizing their position as one that could be especially dangerous given the night he’d had.

Watching the hobbit carefully, Thorin leaned in until his lips met Bilbo’s neck just below his ear, placing a soft kiss there. He was rewarded with a sharp intake of breath from said hobbit at the sensation.

Thorin worked slowly downward, placing slow kisses along the expanse of Bilbo’s neck and the top of his shoulder before moving up once more in the same manner. Just at the crook of his neck, he let his teeth gently rake over the sensitive flesh. He reveled in the shaky gasp it drew from him.

Next to Bilbo’s ear, Thorin’s voice was rough, heavy with arousal. “I know you saw my nephews last night, Bilbo Baggins, and I know you _liked it.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> amrâlimê - my love  
> ghivashel - treasure of all treasures
> 
> Guys, thank you so much for your patience with me. This chapter has taken me longer than I wanted it to, but it kept growing and there was a lot of rough drafting and editing as I added to it. There will still be more to come and thank you as always for your continued support and kudos. xx


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What will Bilbo reveal about himself in the face of a very persistent dwarf, and how will the company fare in Mirkwood?

Bilbo’s knees were weak. He could have melted under Thorin’s touch, the scratch of his beard only serving to light up every nerve as he left a smattering of kisses along the hobbit’s neck.

“I, well that is to say, ah…” Bilbo tried, fighting to keep his composure.

“I heard you, you know.” Thorin continued between kisses, carefully retracing his path down neck and over shoulder.

“H-heard me?” Bilbo stammered, fingers trying to find purchase anywhere on the wall behind him to no avail.

“Oh yes, and I’d wager you heard me as well.” The dwarf punctuated his statement with a slightly rougher nip at the flesh beneath him.

Bilbo drew in a sharp breath, arousal humming through his veins. “I might have.” His voice trembled the tiniest bit and he cursed inwardly.

Wasn’t this what he’d wanted, what he’d been fantasizing about? He’d now pictured Thorin in a surprising number of positions and this was certainly on the list, so why did Bilbo feel so hesitant? He was harder than he could ever remember being, and he would give anything to feel Thorin’s mouth explore the rest of his body, but it suddenly dawned on him. This wasn’t what he wanted for their _first_ time together.

“Thorin.” When the dwarf didn’t even so much as pause in his nibbling of Bilbo’s ear, the hobbit tried again. “Thorin, wait.”

Thorin sighed, letting his head fall forward to rest on Bilbo’s shoulder. Much as he yearned for the hobbit before him, a clear command had been issued and he would obey. Dwarves were often reckless, headstrong, and stubborn as they come, but they did not force themselves upon anyone. He might be left wanting, but Thorin had no intentions of proceeding until Bilbo gave his consent.

He waited, giving Bilbo some much needed time to gather his thoughts. It was also more than enough time for doubt to begin working in the dwarf’s mind as to whether he may have just crossed a few too many lines with their burglar, but he did his best to push that aside until an answer was given.

“Yes, Master Baggins?” Thorin said finally, trying his best to be patient.

The halfling took a deep breath, bringing his hands up to gently guide Thorin to look at him. The look in his eyes made Bilbo’s heart swell with an emotion he was definitely not prepared to deal with just now. He also felt just a touch guilty at the doubt he saw written there.

“First of all, I’m banning you from ever bathing with me again. We got absolutely nothing productive accomplished.” Bilbo couldn’t help the tiny smile that tugged at his lips and he was pleased to see a look of relief cross the dwarf’s face. He let his hands slip down to rest on the broad chest before him.

“Secondly, yes. I did see them.” Bilbo tried to choose his words carefully but found himself rambling. “And perhaps I _did_ enjoy myself more than I care to admit, and yes, I did hear you while I myself was trying quite hard to stay quiet, thank you, and-“

“It’s alright, Bilbo.” Thorin interrupted with a gentle smile, allowing the halfling to collect himself once more. “It’s alright. I’m just giving you a hard time of it.”

“I want this.” Bilbo finally said, looking down at his hands where they rested on Thorin.

“Well, that’s certainly a start.” Thorin couldn’t help his laughter.

“Oh, honestly.” Bilbo rolled his eyes and fought his own grin, trying to remain focused on what he wanted to say. “I want this, and you, but not _like_ this. I wanted, well…” He paused, feeling a bit silly. “I sort of wanted a proper bed to at least be involved and, truth be told, I think I was actually looking forward to a courtship.”

Thorin wasn’t sure if dwarven hearts could explode, but he felt like his might as he looked down at Bilbo. The hobbit was too pure for his own good. The world did not deserve Bilbo Baggins.

“I think I can arrange that.” The dwarf let his fingers softly brush over Bilbo’s cheek.

“I’m sorry, really.”

“Don’t be. I can’t blame you. I suppose I’ve lived this life for so long that I’ve forgotten what it’s like to take my time, to enjoy the journey.” Thorin shrugged slightly. “We’ve been carving out a path for ourselves for so long now that I’m not even sure what settling down feels like anymore. Even in the Blue Mountains where we _had_ homes, I’ve never truly felt that we were _home_.”

“Do you remember much of your home?” Bilbo idly played with a strand of Thorin’s hair, watching his face.

“I do. I remember the halls and the heat of the forge. I remember the throne. I think I could close my eyes and still know each path, every room.” He did close his eyes as he reminisced.

“You miss it.”

“Everyday.” Thorin sighed, looking down once more. “My kin deserve to come home. Fili and Kili have never even seen the mountain and yet they follow each day with unwavering loyalty. They deserve to see their birthright, the kingdom they will inherit.”

“They will. We’re nearly there.” Bilbo smiled warmly, looking up from the bead he’d been examining.

“You give me hope, ghivashel.” Thorin’s face softened as he leaned down for a slow kiss that had the hobbit weak again.

“Will you tell me what that means? What it _actually_ means?” Bilbo said after they parted.

Stepping back, Thorin gave him a knowing smile and reached out to take his hand. He brought it to his lips for a gentle kiss before answering.

“Ask me again after we reclaim the mountain.”

Bilbo watched as Thorin bowed slightly before leaving him to his bath. Not that he felt too much like bathing at the moment, but he might as well rinse himself off again before returning. The hot water was too nice to pass up.

When he did finally step out of the bath, having drip-dried as much as he could, Bilbo dressed in silence, feeling a weight settling over him. It was as if he could feel the mountain lurking, sense the heat of dragon fire licking at his heels.

The short reprieve with Thorin had been nice, a promise of things to come perhaps, but the halfling feared the worst was still ahead.

-~-

Once Bilbo had returned to the group, Beorn was quickly urging them out the door. They were to take his ponies to the edge of Mirkwood before continuing on foot, and their time was growing short before the orcs would once more be upon them. Gandalf shared a few hushed words with the skinchanger before Thorin was calling for their departure.

They reached the entrance to the dark woods without incident, and as promised, they turned the ponies out to return home. Bilbo watched them go with a sinking in his gut. Gandalf alone kept his and remained mounted as the company approached the elven path ahead.

“You’re not leaving us again, are you?” Bilbo asked, standing near their wizard companion.

“I’m afraid I must. Believe me, I would not leave you to this if it was not necessary.” Gandalf frowned deeply. “You are in good company, Bilbo Baggins. I will see you again on the far side of Mirkwood, on the outlook before the mountain.”

“These woods are not right, Gandalf. They feel heavy.” Bilbo commented, glancing back at the trees where Thorin waited with the others, watching him.

“Do not lose the path. Stay together and remain alert at all times. If you stray, you will be lost.” Gandalf’s glanced at the rest of the company once more. When his gaze fell on the hobbit one last time, he looked as if he might say something more but thought better of it.

Wide blue eyes looked up to the wizard who gave him a nod before turning his mount away from the party. Bilbo clenched his fists and steeled himself, drawing upon every bit of bravery he’d found thus far. With one last glance at Gandalf’s retreating form, he turned and made his way back to the party.

Their trek through the dense foliage quickly grew troublesome. The overgrowth made for slow going, and the canopy allowed little light to filter through to the floor. Time seemed to crawl to a stop around the company of Thorin Oakenshield, twisting reality until it seemed to stretch on forever around them.

It was Ori who first cried out. “It’s gone… the path! We’ve lost the path!”

Frantic searching commenced, each desperate to find the elven road once more. Bickering broke out as the blaming began. When the decision to keep moving was finally reached, a deep unease had settled between them. The very air seemed to cling to their skin, almost like a fog that clouded their minds.

Hours seemed to pass as Bilbo found himself turned around, unsure what direction he’d been facing, and hadn’t he been in the middle of their line only a moment ago? He was sure Dori had been behind him. Speaking of, where was Dori? Where was anyone? Shaking his head in a poor attempt to clear it, Bilbo noticed very suddenly that he was quite alone.

Panic rose in his chest. He searched the immediate area for any sign of his companions, ears straining for any sound. The eerie stillness of Mirkwood was his only answer. As he began walking slowly, hoping to stumble upon their trail, Bilbo found his large feet quite literally stumbling over what appeared to be something akin to a spider web. He refused to consider the size of a spider who might spin such a web.

As he righted himself, he finally heard a soft sound somewhere nearby. It started as a sort of skittering, maybe like that of a mouse or some other vermin. As he turned to face the sound, Bilbo thought it had begun to resemble more of a creaking, as of tree limbs bending to the wind.

As suddenly as it had begun, the noise stopped. Bilbo’s urge to flee was growing by the moment, and he clung to a nearby tree for stability. The silence stretched on until the hobbit began to sense a presence, something unnatural that he might have connected with the unease in the forest had he been in his right mind. It was only when he noticed the same creaking he’d heard moments before coming from directly above him that he looked up, coming face to face with a spider more than large enough to have spun the webs he’d seen before. He was momentarily glad he had not considered the size of said spider before because it was decidedly _not_ his most favorite thought.

With a choked cry, he just managed to leap away as the creature lunged for him. Quickly facing it, Bilbo drew his sword, trying to anticipate its movements. It leapt onto him in an instant, knocking him onto his back. He flailed his sword wildly but any advantage he might have had was lost as the arachnid worked him over, spinning silk round and round him until he was trapped.

As his vision became obscured by the white tendrils, Bilbo felt himself being lifted from the forest floor and hefted away. If his judgment was correct, it felt like he was moving upwards, but his senses were obscured so fully that he wasn’t quite sure of anything anymore.

Bilbo grunted as the spider roughly deposited him onto a large branch for safekeeping before crawling away. The seconds ticked by as he waited, making doubly sure he was alone before he hastily tried to wriggle his hands free, carefully keeping track of where his blade was wedged against him and staying as quiet as possible. He managed to tear at his bonds bit by bit, freeing his arms and finally his head which ached from his unceremonious drop.

When he took in his surroundings, Bilbo thought he might have preferred to stay ignorant to them. Where he rested, he was deep within an intricate network of webs that was _infested_ with the enormous beasts. They traversed the strands with unnerving ease, and they were _everywhere_. He could now hear a garbled hissing noise emitted from the spiders every so often and the realization that they were actually communicating only made his fear intensify.

Ever mindful of how much attention he was drawing, the hobbit carefully extracted himself from his cocoon. He could just make out similar wrapped forms strung throughout the immediate area, and paled at the sight of the spiders checking them over, prodding them every so often.

The glint of steel caught his eye from within one web sac as it turned about and it dawned on Bilbo where his companions had disappeared to. His eyes searched the trees for a path, a way to reach them. He couldn’t know how sturdy the webbing would be under his feet but he was fast running out of options and time to ponder as a spider nearly bit into a lumpy mass that Bilbo feared to be one of his friends.

In his searching, Bilbo noted a pine cone near his feet and his plan began to take shape. Hobbits could be quite skilled at making things up as they went, and Bilbo felt he’d nearly become a master of the art. His wasn’t actually a very good plan, or a particularly smart one, but damn it all, it was better than none and he had to try something.

With a swift kick, Bilbo sent the pine cone sailing off towards the forest floor, causing quite the ruckus as it went. Every spider in the immediate vicinity was trained on the sound in an instant, moving downwards in a flurry of legs that made the hobbit’s stomach turn. He sighed as the last moved past him, taking his chance to start for the closest hanging sac. He tore at the webbing with the aid of his blade until the familiar form of Gloin came into view. As Bilbo cleared his face and head, the dwarf seemed to awaken in a frenzy, eyes wide with panic.

“Shh, it’s me! It’s alright!” Bilbo hissed at him, eyes darting about to check for spiders that might notice them at any moment.

Gloin finally took in their burglar’s face and began to still once more. “Master Baggins, you are a welcome sight.” He said quietly in return.

“Yes, well, don’t relax yet. We still have to get the others and get away from here-“

The strange hissing of the spider language came from somewhere close by and Bilbo flinched. They were running out of time. To hell with it. Bilbo decided discretion was out the window and quickly brought his sword about, cleaving the webs enough to allow the dwarf to drop into the waiting hammock of silk below. It vibrated with his weight and the sound of dozens of legs on the move filled the air.

Their task needed no discussion as the two of them now rushed to free their friends. Gloin had only just managed to halfway expose Bifur when a guttural cry came from behind, signaling the return of their captors. One of the beasts dropped from above onto the dwarves, though it was met with two axe blades. Curling in upon itself, the spider tumbled sideways, ripping through the web to the ground several feet below. With a shared look, the dwarves scrambled to their feet and renewed their efforts.

One by one, the company was rescued only to fall into the fray of battle. With each spider that joined them and each dwarf that fought, the strands of the web were pulled ever tighter until the whole lot of them was sent plummeting to the floor, knocking into branches and each other as they went. One such knock brought Bilbo and a spider face to face as they crashed downward. Landing first, the hobbit scrambled for his sword, raising it just in time to impale the creature easily down to the hilt. It hissed and writhed for a moment before its legs pulled in and it went limp. Bilbo shoved it away with disgust before fleeing for cover in the roots of an upturned tree.

In the midst of the fighting, an arrow flew by from somewhere outside the main scrap, finding one of the creatures with deadly accuracy. It took only seconds for more to follow, felling the spiders left and right. The company was left stunned and disconcerted, looking about for the source of their aid. Thorin dispatched one last spider and spun about to face the next, instead coming face to face with the razor-sharp tip of an elven arrow. Stilling, he lowered his sword and began to notice several more elves around them, bows and daggers drawn in warning.

A bow sang as its arrow dropped the last of the spiders where it was poised to strike behind Bombur and it crumpled to the ground, jaws gaping. Eyes wide, the large dwarf thought he might even thank the elf if he wasn’t now concerned about being similarly shot.

“Gather them up. Take their weapons and anything precious.” A blonde elf of seemingly higher standing addressed his company in their native tongue before meeting Thorin’s icy gaze. “If any of you move, we will gladly kill you.” He continued in the common middle earth language.

The dwarves looked to their king, hesitant to give in to the demands of the elves around them, though they had little choice in the matter. His face twisting with hatred, Thorin begrudgingly allowed his sword to be pulled from his grasp and watched as his kin were given the same treatment.

The elves herded them like cattle, guiding them in a single-file line through the woods. If they were shoved a bit harder or tripped up the tiniest bit, it was no concern of the elves of Mirkwood. There was no communication allowed within the company, though their captors threw around Sindarin insults without a care.

The same blonde elf from before trailed just slightly behind, his watchful gaze keeping the dwarves in line. A rustle of leaves gave him pause, his keen eyes searching the forest around them. Those wretched spiders had been multiplying by the day and he did not intend to get eaten on this trip. After a time, satisfied that they were safe enough, the elf moved on once more, oblivious to the hobbit following in their shadows.

-~-

The enormous dwelling of the wood elves was vastly larger than he’d anticipated, although Bilbo could certainly appreciate the craftsmanship that went into every detail and he expected the inner city was just as impressive. He was crouched behind a tree some ways away, absorbing every second he could as he watched the elves lead the company through a large door with a guard waiting on either side.

He noted that whoever the blonde elf was, he was obviously someone quite important. As he passed, the guards gave slight bows and he commanded the respect of the other elves in his troop. As the guards closed the doors behind them, Bilbo sighed softly. If he had any hope of rescuing the others, he would have to come up with something exceptionally clever.

He briefly considered walking up and introducing himself but they would certainly question his arrival and he would most likely end up captured with the others. He also couldn’t guarantee that he’d not been seen with the dwarves. For all Bilbo knew, the elves were simply waiting for him to show up. However, he was quite positive that he preferred the elven dungeons over the spiders any day.

For now, he would bide his time, much as he hated to. Beorn had warned them that the elves of Mirkwood were not so hospitable as those in Rivendell and Bilbo shuddered to think of how they would treat his companions. It would be a very long wait, indeed.

Bilbo soon noticed that every little sound made his skin crawl. His eyes scanned the trees constantly for any other horrors that might choose to present themselves. He was careful to keep his movements as quiet as possible as he crept closer to the gate. The walls of the city seemed to stretch on forever to either side, blending with the surrounding forest as if they’d been planted there.

The hobbit turned and leaned his back against the wall just to the left of the gate. Closing his eyes, he tried to gather any information he could glean from his surroundings. Unsurprisingly, he couldn’t hear the elves within the city, and the trees felt oppressively silent. The breeze hardly rustled any leaves and when it did, he couldn’t even pinpoint anything about its direction. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t help the sense of defeat that began worming its way into his heart. They’d come so far. How could it end like this? How could they die here, in this wretched place?

As evening began to settle over the city and the small hobbit crouched outside its borders, Bilbo steeled himself. It wouldn’t do anyone any good for him to sit about and worry himself into an early grave. He had come on an adventure across Middle Earth and he’d be damned if some elves would stop them now.

Standing, he gave his whole body a shake for good measure before setting off to explore the wall that encompassed said elves. There had to be something. Some unconventional entrance that was likely not even an entrance at all, but would serve the hobbit’s purposes all the same. It was beyond nighttime when he finally discovered just what he’d been looking for. As he stood on the bank of the river and let his eyes trace it back into a deep cavern that seemed to permeate the underbelly of the city, Bilbo smiled to himself. Yes, this would do nicely.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine’s Day! I hope everyone’s holidays were filled with wonderful memories and nothing but good things.
> 
> Thank you for your patience waiting for this chapter. I’ve actually got much more written but I had to break it up into multiple parts for you, so there will be another upload coming very soon!
> 
> Thank you again, and I hope you continue to enjoy this adventure with me! xx


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